THE RIDER OF GOLDEN BAR Htlliam $atter*on THE OWNER OF THE LAZY D LYNCH LAWYERS HIDDEN TRAILS PARADISE BEND THE HEART OF THE RANGE THE RIDER OF GOLDEN BAR The girl seized his stirrup to save herself from falling. FRONTISPIECE. See page 55. THE RIDER OF GOLDEN BAR " BY WILLIAM PATTERSON WHITE WITH FRONTISPIECE BY REMINGTON SCHUYLER BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1922 Copyright, 1922, BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. All rights reserved Published January, 1923 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OP AMERICA TO MY POINT O* WOODS COUSINS LAURA, CHARLOTTE, JULIA, AND DOROTHY M63747O CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I BILLY WINGO i II A SAFE MAN 13 III WHAT SALLY JANE THOUGHT .... 28 IV HAZEL WALTON . 37 V JACK MURRAY OBJECTS 66 VI CROSS-PURPOSES 86 VII RAPE'S IDEA 93 VIII THE NEW BROOM . . 116 IX THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 133 X A SHORT HORSE 139 XI THE TRAPPERS 146 XII THE TRAP 170 XIII OPEN AND SHUT . 182 XIV WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT 201 XV THE BEST-LAID PLANS 214 XVI OBSCURING THE ISSUE ....... 229 XVII WHAT HAZEL THOUGHT 250 XVIII THE BARE-HEADED MAN 268 XIX THE PERSISTENT SUITOR . . . . . . 280 XX A DISCOVERY 290 XXI THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY'S NIGHTMARE . . 298 XXII THE HUNCH 319 XXIII THE GUNFIGHTERS ....... 330 XXIV CONTRARIETIES 344 XXV JONESY'S ULTIMATUM 356 XXVI THE FOOL-KILLER 366 XXVII THE LONG DAY CLOSES ...... 385 THE RIDER OF GOLDEN BAR CHAPTER ONE BILLY WINGO " BUT why don't you do something, Bill? " demand- ed Sam Prescott's pretty daughter. Bill Wingo looked at Miss Prescott in injured as- tonishment. " Do something?" he repeatd. " What do you want me to do? " " I don't want you to do anything," she denied with unnecessary emphasis. " Haven't you any ambition? " " Plenty." " Then use it, for Heaven's sake ! " " I do. Don't I ask you to marry me every time I get a chance? " " That's not using your ambition. That's playing the fool." " Nice opinion of yourself you've got," he grinned. " Never mind. You make me tired, Bill. Here you've got a little claim and a little bunch of cows the makings of a ranch if you'd only work. But in- stead of working like a man you loaf like a like 2 The Rider of Golden Bar " Like a loafer," he prompted. " Exactly. You'd rather hunt and fish and ride the range for monthly wages when you're broke than scratch gravel and make something of yourself. You let your cows run with the T-Up-And-Down, and I'll bet when Tuckleton had his spring round-up you weren't even on the job. Were you? " "Well, I uh I was busy," shamefacedly. " Fishing over on Jack's Creek. That's how busy you were, when you should have been looking after your property." " Oh, Tuckleton's boys are square. Any calves they found running with my brand, they'd run the iron on 'em all right." " They'd run the iron on 'em all right," she repeated. "But what iron?" " Why mine. Whose do you suppose? " " I don't know," she said candidly. " I'm asking you." " Shucks, Sally Jane, those boys wouldn't do any- thing crooked. Tuckleton wouldn't allow it." " Bill, don't you ever distrust anybody? " " Not until I'm certain they're crooked." " I see," said the lady disgustedly. " After you wake up and find your hide, together with the rest of your worldly possessions, hanging on the fence, then and not till then do you come alive to the fact that perhaps all was not right." "Well "began Bill. " Don't you see by that time it's too late? " inter- rupted the lady. " Aw, I dunno. I I suppose so." Billy Wingo 3 " You suppose so, do you? You suppose so. Don't you know, my innocent William, that there are a sight more criminals outside of jail than there are in? " " Why, Sally Jane ! " said the innocent William, scraping a fie-fie forefinger at her. " Shame on you, shame on you, you wicked girl. I am surprised. Such thoughts in a young maid's mind. No, I ain't either. I always said if your pa sent you away to school you'd lose your faith in human nature. He did ; and you did. And now look at you, talking just like a district at- torney. And suspicious I'd tell a man ! " " Oh, darn ! " wailed Sally Jane. " I hate a fool ! " " So do I," concurred Bill warmly. " Tell a feller who's the fool you hate and I'll hate him, too. One pair of haters working together might do said fool a lot of good." " Sometimes, Bill, my fingers simply ache to smack your long and silly ears." He nodded soberly. " I know. I often have the same feeling about people. But don't let it worry you. It don't mean anything." " Bill, can't you understand that I like you, and " " Easily," he grinned. " Of course you like me. So do lots of other people. It comes natural. And that is another thing you mustn't let worry you, Sally Jane. Just you take that liking for me and tend it real careful. Put it on the window-sill between the pink geraniums and water it morning, noon and night, and by and by that li'l liking will wax strong and great and all that sort of thing, and you won't be able to do with- 4 The Rider of Golden Bar out me. You'll have to marry me, I'm afraid, Sally Jane." " I will, will I? And you're afraid, are you? You big, overgrown, lazy lummox! I wouldn't marry you ever." " I'm not so sure, but you needn't stamp your foot at me anyway. It ain't being done this season. Peo- ple slam doors instead. I'm sorry there isn't a door near at hand. It must have been overlooked when Linny's Hill was made." " Bill, don't fool. This is not any joking matter. This come-day-go-day attitude of yours is bad business. It's ruining you, really it is." " Drink and the devil, huh? " " Oh, you're decent enough far as that goes. You never have been beastly." " I thank you, madam, for this good opinion of your humble servant." " Shut up ! I mean to say What I'm trying to beat into your thick head, you simple thing, is that in this world you don't stand still. You can't. You either go ahead or you slip back. And you aren't going ahead." "If not, why not, huh? I know you mean well, Sally Jane, and " "And it's none of my business? Oh, I know you weren't going to say that but you think it. You're quite right, Bill but can't you see I'm talking for your own good? " " Sure, yes. My pa used to talk just like that before he'd go out behind the corral with a breeching-strap in one hand and my ear in the other. I've heard him Billy Wingo 5 many's the time. I used to hurt most unpleasant for two-three days after, special if he'd forget which end of the strap carried the buckle. Old times, old times. Now, I take it you were never licked, Sally Jane. That was a mistake. You should have been What? You don't mean to say you're going home? And we were getting along so nicely too. Well, if willful must, she must. I'll hold your horse for you. Again let me offer my apologies for the lack of a door." He sagged down on his heel and watched her ride away along the side of Linny's Hill. " I've often heard a woman's ' no ' doesn't mean what it says," he muttered, fishing out the makings from a vest pocket. u But Sally Jane is so persistent with it, I dunno. I wonder if I really love her, or do I only think I do because I can't have her? I suppose I'd feel worse'n I do every time she turns me down if I did. Lord ! she said, I said, he said, and may Gawd have mercy on your soul ! " When his cigarette was going well he lazed over on his side, supporting his head on a crooked arm, and gazed abroad between half-shut lids. The view from Linny's Hill was all that could be desired. At the base of the hill the Golden Bar-Hills- ville trail, a yellow-gray ribbon across the green, led the eye across flats and gentle rises through shady groves of pine and cedar westward to where Golden Bar, a collection of toy houses, each one startlingly clear and distinct in that rarefied atmosphere, sprawled along the farther bank of Wagonjack River. The stream itself, a roaring river in the spring of the year, was now but a poor thing. Shrunk to quar- 6 The Rider of Golden Bar ter-size, and fordable almost anywhere, it flowed in sedate and midsummer fashion between its cut-banks and miniature bluffs. Bordered throughout its length by willows and cottonw r oods, Wagonjack River mean- dered and wound its way southward from the blue and hazy tumble of peaks that was the main range of the Medicine Mountains to where the wide and pleasant reaches of the Peace Pipe watered the southern section of the territory. From Golden Bar to the Medicine Mountains was a long two hundred miles. From Golden Bar to the Peace Pipe was twice that distance. Crocker County, four hundred miles long by three hundred miles wide, bounded on the east by the Wagon- jack, ran well up into the Medicine Mountains before giving way to Storey County. Across the river from Crocker were two counties, of which Tom Read Coun- ty was the northern and Piegan County the southern. Shaler County ran the whole length of the southern side of Crocker, whose western line was the boundary of the neighboring territory. There you have Crocker, a county three hundred miles wide by four hundred miles long, and Golden Bar was its county seat. Political pickings in Crocker, which pickings the neighbors called by a much worse name, were consist- ently good. A small Indian reservation lay partly in Crocker and partly in Shaler, but somehow the Crocker citizens always secured the beef contracts. Crocker laws, provided the suspected person or persons were friendly with the county officials, were not administered with undue severity. Coarse work was never tolerated, Billy Wingo 7 naturally; but if one were judicious and a good picker, one could travel far and profitably. Thus it may be seen that Crocker was, as counties go, fertile ground for easy consciences. But, like Gallio, Bill Wingo cared for none of these things. He watched the moving pencil-end that was Miss Prescott and her mount descend to the trail and ride along it in the direction of Golden Bar. Another pencil-end was riding the same trail, away from Golden Bar. Traveling at their present rate of speed, the riders would meet not far from the scattering grove of cedars marking the entrance to the low-walled draw that led to the Prescott ranch house. Bill Wingo intently scrutinized the way-farer from Golden Bar side. " Looks like Jack Murray's sorrel/' he mused, hold- ing the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and rocking it up and down. " If they stop, it's Jack." The pencil-ends drew together at the lower end of the grove. They stopped. " Shucks," Mr. Wingo muttered mildly. " I never did like that man." Said the first pencil-end to the second pencil-end, " Hello, Sally Jane." " Morning, Jack." " I was just a-riding to your place." " Don't let me stop you." " I'll ride along with you." " It's a free country." She lifted her reins and "kissed " to her horse. " And at times I've known 8 The Rider of Golden Bar you to be amusing, Jack. It's four miles to our ranch and you'll help to brighten the weary way." He spurred alongside and turned in his saddle to stare at her. " Is that all I'm good for to help pass the time? " " What else is a man good for? " " Don't be so flip, Sally Jane. You know " He stopped short. She waited a moment. Then, " I know what? " " You know I've been loving you a long, long time,'" he said abruptly. " I didn't want to tell you till I had something to offer you besides myself. And now I've got something Rafe Tuckleton has promised to make me sheriff." " I thought the voters usually decided such things," said she. He laughed cynically. " Not in Crocker. We know the better way. Well, I've told you, Sally Jane. What do you say? " She looked at him coolly. " What is this a pro- posal?" " Sure, I want you to marry me." " No, you don't." There was no hint of coquetry in either her tone or the direct gaze of her violet eyes. He crowded his horse almost against hers and dropped a hand on top of her hand where it lay on the saddle horn. She did not withdraw her hand at his touch. She simply suffered it impassively. " Don't you understand?" he said earnestly. " Don't you understand that I love you, Sally Jane? And I want you." Sally Jane continued to look at him. Billy Wingo 9 " I understand that you want me," she told him calmly. " Why not? You're dark and tall and thick- lipped and headstrong. I'm slim and red-haired and my mouth is full, too but Fm headstrong, thank Heaven. My type appeals to your type, that's all. Appeals physically, I mean. You'd like to possess me, but you don't love me, Jack Murray." " I tell you " he began passionately. " You don't have to tell me," she said calmly. " I know." " How do you know? " " By your eyes." " My eyes!" 4 Your eyes. Love is something besides desire, Jack. I know that lots of men don't think so; but women know. You bet women know. And I, for one, don't intend to risk my happiness on a twenty-to-one-shot." " What you talking about? " he demanded, scowling and withdrawing his hand. 4 You and me us. If I married you, it's twenty to one our marriage would be unhappy. There's too much of the animal in you, Jack." " You listen to me, Sally. I tell you I love you and I'm going to have you." " I said you only wanted to possess me," she ob- served placidly. " Dammit, I tell you " " That's right, swear," she interrupted. " A man always does that when he can't think of anything else to say." " I'm gonna marry you," he persisted sullenly. io The Rider of Golden Bar " If it does you any good, keep right on thinking so. It can't hurt me." " Has Bill Wingo " he began, but sensed his mistake and stopped too late. " You mean am I in love with Billy Wingo? " she put in helpfully. u My answer is, not at present." " Meaning that you may be later on, I suppose." " I didn't say so. Lord, man, haven't I a right to bestow my heart anywhere I like? I intend to, old- timer." " You ain't gonna marry anybody but me," he insist- ed stubbornly. 44 There you go again. Leave the melodrama alone, can't you? This isn't a play. It's real life." 44 I said I was gonna have you and I am," he said slowly. u Neither Bill Wingo nor anybody else is gonna get you. You were always intended for me. You're mine, understand, mine ! " Jamming his horse against hers he pinioned both her hands with his right, swung his left arm round her waist and crushed her gasping against his chest. Be sure she struggled; but he was a man, and strong. Forcing the back of the hand that confined her two hands under her chin, he tilted her head up and back- wards. Tightly she screwed up her mouth so that her lips were invisible. Once, twice and again he kissed her compressed mouth. 44 There," he muttered, releasing her so abruptly that she almost fell out of the saddle and only saved herself by catching the saddle horn with both hands. 44 There. I've heard you boasted that no man had Billy Wingo II ever kissed you. Well, you're kissed now and you won't forget it in a hurry." She settled her toes in the stirrups and faced him, her body shaking. Her hat had fallen off, her copper- colored hair hung tousled about her ears. Violet eyes sparkling under the black eyebrows, lips drawn back revealing the white, even teeth her features were a mask of rage a rage that seethed and boiled in her passionate heart. Never in her life had she been so despitefully used. Had she had a gun, she would have shot the man. But she did not have a gun nor any other weapon. She had even dropped her quirt somewhere. " Oh! " she cried, striking her fists together. " Oh! I could kill you! You dog! You beast! Faugh! " Here she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and wiped her hand on her horse's mane. " When I get home," she raved on, " I'll try to wash the touch of your mouth off with soap, but I don't believe even ammonia will ever make my lips feel clean again! " He laughed. She began to cry as her rage over- flowed her heart. " When I tell my father," she sobbed, "he will kill you!" " Here, stop crying," he directed, stretching forth an arm and leaning toward her. At that she came alive with startling suddenness and with a full-armed sweep scored his cheek with her finger nails from temple to jaw. " Don't touch me ! " she squalled. " Don't touch me ! When my father gets through with you " She left the sentence unfinished and wheeled her horse. 12 The Rider of Golden Bar But he was too quick for her and seized the bridle rein and swung her mount back. " Listen," he said, his voice quiet but his eyes ablaze, " don't say anything to your father." " Afraid now, are you? " she taunted sneeringly. " Not for me, for him. I don't want any trouble with your pa, not any. But if he jumps me, Til have to defend myself. And you know your pa was never very quick on the draw, Sally Jane. So long." He let her bridle go and moved aside. She snatched her horse around with a jerk and flew homeward at a gallop. CHAPTER TWO A SAFE MAN U WE gotta be careful," cautioned Tom Driver, the local justice of the peace. " Careful is our middle name/' Rafe Tuckleton said reassuringly. " I know, I know," persisted Driver. " But you can't fool all the people all " " Abe Lincoln said it first," Felix Craft interrupted impatiently. " But he didn't live in Crocker County." " Or he wouldn't have said it, huh? " flung in Tip O'Gorman. " Don't you fool yourself, Crafty. Tom's right. Human nature don't change any." " I s'pose you mean give the people a square deal then," sneered Felix. " If he does, he's crazy," said a lanky citizen named Shindle. O'Gorman grinned a wide Irish smile. " No, I ain't crazy, but we'll give 'em a square deal alia same." " He is crazy," declared lank Shindle. " A square deal," repeated O'Gorman. " A square deal for us." " I thought so," nodded plump Sam Larder, speak- ing for the first time since the beginning of the discus- sion. " A square deal for us. Let's hear it, Tip." O'Gorman sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. 14 The Rider of Golden Bar " When a dog is hungry it ain't sensible to feed him a whole juicy steak. He'll gobble it down an' come pesterin' round for more in five minutes. But give him a bone and he'll gnaw and gnaw and be a satisfied dog for quite a long while." " What kind of a bone were you figuring on giving our dog?" inquired Tom Driver. " Sheriff." Thus Tip O'Gorman with finality. Felix Craft shook a decided head. " Guess again. Too much meat on that bone." " Not if it's the right kind of meat," said O'Gor- man blandly. " Stop walking in the water," grunted the impatient Felix. " Say it right out." " A sheriff with a ring in his nose," explained O'Gorman. " A weak sister, huh? " put in Tom Driver. " Or words to that effect," smiled O'Gorman. " Can't you see how it is, gents? To shove our ticket through we gotta give 'em one good man. If we don't, the four legislators are a stand-off. We may elect them. We may elect our three justices, county clerk and coroner. You can't tell what will happen to them. Folks will scratch their heads this election and they'll vote their own way. Take my word for it. And when it comes to sheriff, folks are gonna do more than scratch their heads. They're gonna think hard. That's why we gotta give 'em a good man." " One of themselves, for instance?" said plump Sam Larder, locking his hands over his paunch. " Sure," O'Gorman drawled. " Do that. Give 'em somebody they trust and like for sheriff an' they'll be A Safe Man 15 so busy thinkin' about electin' him that the rest of the ticket will slide in like a greased pig through a busted fence/ 7 " To tell the truth. I'd more than half-promised the job to Jack Murray," remarked Rafe Tuckleton, incidentally wondering why Jack had not yet turned up at the meeting. " He should have been here an hour ago." " You half-promised it to Jack Murray, huh? " ex- claimed the lank citizen Shindle. " Lemme tell you that I was a damsight more than half-counting on that job myself." " Neither of your totals is the right answer, Skinny," explained O'Gorman pleasantly. " Nominatin' either you or Jack would gorm up the whole ticket." " Aw, the party is strong enough to elect anybody ! " protested Felix Craft. " Not this year," contradicted O'Gorman. " You ain't been round like I have, Felix. I tell you I know. Gents, if we go ahead and nominate either Skinny Shindle or Jack Murray, we'll all have to go to work." " Who you got in mind? " queried Rafe Tuckleton. " Bill Wingo." Dead silence for a space. Then Rafe Tuckleton looked at Sam Larder and whistled lowly. Sam's eyes switched to Tip. " I don't see the connection," said Sam Larder. " Me either," concurred Rafe. '"I should say not," Shindle declared loudly. " I'll tell you," said Tip O'Gorman, beaming im- partially upon the assemblage. " Take Skinny Shindle. He " 16 The Rider of Golden Bar " Aw right, take me! " burst out the gentleman in question. u What about me ! What " " Easy, easy," cautioned Tip O'Gorman, his smile a trifle fixed. " I ain't deaf in either ear, and besides ain't we all li'l friends together?" " But you said " Skinny tried again. " I ain't said it yet," interrupted Tip, " but I'm going to gimme a chance. It won't hurt. It's only the truth. Take Skinny and look at him. He buys scrip at three times the discount anybody else does, and there was a lot of talk about that beef contract the agent gave him." u What of it? Folks don't have to bring scrip to me if they don't wanna, and suppose there was chat- ter about the contract. It's the government's funeral." " It came near being the agent's," slipped in Sam Larder, with a reminiscent grin. " Some of them feather dusters like to chased him off the reservation when they saw the kind of cattle he gave 'em. I saw 'em. They were thinner than Skinny. No exaggera- tion. Absolutely." " Well, that's all right, too," said Skinny. " A fel- ler's got to make money somehow. Who ever heard of giving a Injun the best of it? Not in Crocker County, anyway." " That's all right again, too," declared Tip. " But that last deal with the agent was a li'l too raw. Tak- ing that with your prices for scrip, Skinny, has made a heap of talk. You ain't a popular idol, Skinny, not by any means." "Damn my popularity!" snarled the excellent Skinny. " I wanna be sheriff." A Safe Man 17 " Like the baby wants the soap," said Tip. " Well, you'll never be happy then, because you'll never get it." " Lookit here, Tip " You lookit here, Skinny," swiftly interjected Rafe Tuckleton. " Is this campaign your own private affair, or is it the party's? " " The party's, I guess," Skinny reluctantly admit- ted. " But I want my share of it." " You can have your share without being sheriff," Rafe told him. " You'll be taken care of, don't fret. This here's a case of united we stand, divided we tumble. Suppose any li'l thing upsets our plans, and our ticket don't go through ? What then ? What hap- pens? For one thing you won't get the contract for furnishing the lumber for the new jail and town hall that's gonna be built next year. And for another, that land deal you and I put through last month will be in- vestigated. How'd we like that, huh? " " Rafe's right," said Tom Driver. " This is no time for taking any chances. It ain't a presidential year, and you can gamble there ain't gonna be a thing to take folks' eyes off the county politics. We've all gotta give up something for the sake of the party." " I don't notice you givin' up anything," snapped the disgruntled Skinny. " I seem to be the only one that loses." " And Jack Murray," supplemented Rafe Tuckle- ton. " Hell's bells, Skinny, why didn't you say some- thing sooner? To-night's the first I ever heard you even wanted an office. That's why I told Jack he i8 The Rider of Golden Bar could have it. He's a good man, but if I'd known " " What difference does that make?" interrupted Skinny, bitterly. " You couldn't give me the nomination anyway." " You could have had another office say county clerk." " Wouldn't take it on a bet not enough oppor- tunity. Aw hell, it's a dead horse ! Let it go, Rafe. Tip, you've had a lot to say about me, now let's hear what you got against Jack Murray." " Yep," said Rafe Tuckleton, " let's have it. I'll have to give Jack some reason for going back on him, and I don't see exactly " He did not complete the sentence. " Speaking personal," observed Tip, again on the broad grin, " I ain't got a thing against Jack. Him and me get along fine. But when Jack was first deputy two years ago he managed to kill four men one time and another." 1 That was in the line of duty," said Rafe. " They all resisted arrest." Tip O'Gorman nodded. " I ain't denying it. And we've got Jack's word for it besides; but the four men all had friends, and when, as you know, each and every on of 'em turned out to be more or less inno- cent, why the friends got to talking round and saying Jack was too previous. Ain't you heard anything a- tall?" " I've heard it said he was a leetle quicker than he maybe needed to be," conceded Rafe. " But folks always talk more or less about a killing. It didn't A Safe Man 19 strike me there was enough in it to actually keep Jack from being elected." " There is. They're only talking now, but nominate Jack and they'll begin to yell." " You must Have been mighty busy these last few weeks, Tip," sneered Skinny. " I have," declared Tip. " Seems like I've talked with every voter in the county. I've gone over the whole field with a finetooth comb, and I tell you, gents, the bone for our dog is Bill Wingo. Most everybody likes Bill. He's a damsight more popular than the opposition candidate. Bill will get a lot of the other feller's votes, but if we put up anybody else the other feller will get a lot of ours and so will the rest of his ticket." Tip O'Gorman sat back in his chair and eyed his friends. It was obvious that the friends were of two minds. Rafe Tuckleton, his fingers drumming on the table, stared soberly at the floor. "Are you sure, Tip," inquired Larder suddenly, " that Bill Wingo is the breed of horse that will always drink when you lead him to water? " Tip O'Gorman nodded his guarantee of .Mr. Wing's pliability of character. " Bill is too easy-going and good-natured to do anything else." " I'd always had an idea he was a good deal of a man," said Sam Larder. " Oh, he'll stand the acid," Tip said. " He'll go after anybody he thinks he oughta go after; but if we can't manage to give him the right kind of thoughts we're no good." u You needn't start losing flesh, Sam," slipped in 20 The Rider of Golden Bar Tom Driver. " Bill would never go back on his friends. H's just a big overgrown kid, that's all." Rafe Tuckleton leaned back in his chair and stared dubiously at Tip O'Gorman. " All right for Bill, but how about Tom Walton? " " I'll bite," Tip averred blandly. " How about him?" " Nothing, oh, nothing a-tall. Only Tom Walton has been one too many round here for a long time." " He does talk too much," admitted Tom Driver, his bright little eyes, like those of an alert bird, fixed on Rafe Tuckleton. " He's a very suspicious man," said the latter. " He like to broke Simon Reelfoot's neck last week over a horse of his he said Simon rustled." " Serve Simon right," said Tip promptly. " Simon's a polecat. Always was. Felt like breaking his neck more than once myself. Good for Walton." " But Simon's one of our crowd," Rafe reminded him, " and he's been mighty useful. We gotta con- sider his feelings." " Oh, damn his feelings. The old screw ain't got any right to feelings." " Yes, but there wasn't any real actual proof about the horse only some tracks in Simon's corral that Walton thought he recognized." Tip quirked a quizzical mouth. " Between us, Rafe, what did Simon do with/ the horse? " " Sold him to a prospector who was leaving the country. So it couldn't be traced." " Good horse was it? " " It was that chestnut young Hazel rides." A Safe Man 21 " Hazel's own pony? Lord! Man alive, Simon is worse'n a polecat. He's a whole family of them. Why couldn't he have rustled some other horse? " " I ain't Simon, so I can't tell you," said Rafe dryly. " But if you don't want anything done on Simon's ac- count, how about this : yesterday one of my boys was shot at while he happened to be doing a li'l business on the Walton range." " What did your boy happen to be doing? " smiled Tip. Rafe attempted to excuse himself and his cowboy. " It was a long-ear." " Branding it on the Walton range? " " Yes." "With its mammy?" " Yes." " Serve the boy right." Tip gave judgment. " You and your outfit are getting too reckless for any use, Rafe. The territory is not a Sunday-school. You can't pick a man's pocket openly any more. It isn't safe. And you know it isn't safe. Who was the boy and what time of day was it? " " Ben Shanklin; and it was round noon." " Worse and more of it. My Gawd, Rafe, you gimme a pain! " Sam Larder shook a fat-cheeked head. " Danger- ous, Rafe; dangerous. You've got to consider a man's feelings now more than you used to. Haven't you told your man to always work round sunrise and sunset, and never to shoot a calf's mammy on her owner's territory? " 22 The Rider of Golden Bar " Others do, and get away with it. Besides, he didn't shoot the cow." " He might as well have shot her," declared Tom Driver. " He got caught, didn't he? " " Ben didn't get caught. He made the riffle all right with two holes in his saddle-horn and one in his cantle that tore his pants." " What range ? Did he say ? " " About fourteen hundred." " Fourteen hundred, huh? Then he couldn't have been recognized." " Luckily not." " Luck is the word for you for us." " Wonder who did the shooting? " " I don't know. Ben dug out one of the bullets from his horn. It was fifty caliber a Sharps." " That was Tom Walton himself," declared Tom Driver. " He's the only one in his outfit owning a Sharps, and he won't let any one else shoot it. 'Twas Tom Walton. And don't be so positive Ben wasn't recognized, Rafe. I hear Walton carries field glasses now." u He is getting suspicious," smiled Tip O'Gorman. The smile stung the amiable Rafe. " He's gotta be stopped." "How?" Thus Tip. " There are ways," snarled Rafe. " Of course, but it doesn't pay to be too rough. Tom has a great many friends. We can't afford to stir up a whole kettleful of discontent. A little care, Rafe, is all that's necessary. I think I'd impress my men, A Safe Man 23 if I were you, with the absolute necessity of being careful." " I did tell 'em," said Rafe sullenly. " Your telling seems to have left them cold. At least it left Ben Shanklin. Damn his soul ! I almost wish Tom Walton had got him, the coyote ! He de- serves to be got, gorming up our plans thisaway." " Well, everything turned out all right," Felix Craft tucked in hastily. " So why worry? I'm sure Rafe's men will be^more careful after this." " I wish I was sure," grunted Tip O'Gorman. " They're a wild bunch, every last one of 'em. I be- lieve they just try to stir up trouble. They're eternally getting drunk and shooting up saloons and other places of business. People don't like it." " Oh, boys will be boys," deprecated Rafe. " Your boys will be dead boys if they don't watch out. Anyway, you put the hobbles on that Ben boy, Rafe. We can't afford to have him spoil things." " How about having him spoil Walton? " " And antagonize all of Walton's friends, huh? Bright, oh, very! " " If the feller who spoiled Walton was a stranger, it would be all right. You couldn't connect an abso- lute stranger with us, could you?" u Let's hear your li'l plan," said Tip O'Gorman. Every man of them listened intently to the Tuckle- tonian plan. As plans go it was a good plan. Procuring an assas- sin to do the dirty work is always a good plan. Rafe knew a gunman, named Slike, in a neighboring terri- tory. For two hundred and fifty dollars, according to 24 The Rider of Golden Bar Rafe, Dan Slike would murder almost any one. For five hundred it was any one, without the almost. " Can he do it? " doubted Tom Driver. " We all know how slow Tom Walton is on the draw," sneered Rafe. ' Which he's slower than Sam Prescott. If Slike don't plug Walton three times be- fore he can draw, I'll eat my shirt." " That sounds well," said Tip O'Gorman, eyeing Rafe with frank disgust. " But, somehow, I don't like the idea of having Walton killed." " Whatsa matter with you?" demanded the orig- inator of the idea. " Losing your nerve? " Tip O'Gorman's expression did not alter in the slightest. He gazed upon his questioner as if the lat- ter were a new and interesting specimen of insect life. " No," he said, " I don't think I'm losing my nerve. Do you think I'm losing my nerve, Rafe? " Rafe looked upon Tip. Tip looked upon Rafe. The others held their respective breaths. In the room was dead silence. " Do you, Rafe?" persisted Tip, his voice velvety smooth. Rafe found his tongue. " No, I don't," he declared frankly. " But, I don't see why you don't like my scheme." "Don't you? I'll explain. Tom Walton's niece, Hazel, is the drawback. Rubbin' out Tom would most likely put a crimp in her, sort of. She lost her ma and pa only five years ago." " Aw, the devil!" exclaimed Rafe Tuckleton. " We can't stop to think of all those li'l things. We're A Safe Man 25 here to make money, no matter how. Good Gawd, Tip! We ain't " "Good Gawd, Rafe!" interrupted Tip. " We ain't hiring any gunman to wipe out Tom Walton. I'm no he-angel none of us are, I guess ; but I've known Hazel since she was a li'l squaller, and I won't sit still and see her hurt. And that goes!" Tip nodded with finality at Rafe Tuckleton. Rafe sat bacl^ on the middle of his spine and gnawed his lower lip. His eyes were sulky. " I don't want to see Haz;el hurt either," said Skinny Shindle with an indescribable leer, " but when it comes to a question of li'l Hazel or us, I'm for us every time." " You look here, Skinny," said Tip O'Gorman in a low dispassionate voice, " what I said to Rafe, I say to you: Hands off Tom Walton." " Oh, all right," said Skinny Shindle, " but if any- thing happens out of this, don't say I didn't tell you." " I won't say so, Skinny," Tip said good-naturedly. " I won't say a word." " Gentlemen," Felix Craft put in hurriedly, " let's go slow about now. No use saying anything hasty, not a bit of use. Tip's right. None of us want to hurt Hazel, and -" " And we want to be damn sure we don't want to hurt Hazel," interrupted Tip O'Gorman, his eyes fixed on Rafe Tuckleton's sullen face. " 'T'sall right, 't'sall right," said Rafe, forcing a smile. "Have it your own way, Tip. Tom Walton's safe for all of me." 26 The Rider of Golden Bar " Good enough," Tip said heartily, shooting at Rafe a glance that was not completely trustful. Entered then Jack Murray, wearing a set smile across his scratched face. He nodded to the assem- blage, sat down jauntily on the edge of the table and brought out the makings. "Well!" he said, his eyes on Rafe Tuckleton, rolling the while a meticulous cigarette. " Well, I suppose you've got the ticket all made up." "Just about," nodded Rafe. "What prize did I draw?" " A large, round goose-egg," Skinny Shindle an- swered for Rafe with malice. "Huh!" Thus Mr. Murray, the hand he had reached upward to his hatband coming down without the match. "You serious, Skinny?" " I wish I thought I wasn't," was the reply. Jack Murray turned a slow head back toward Rafe Tuckleton. " You told me the sheriff's job was mine," he said bluntly. " I thought it was," admitted Rafe, looking straight into his eyes. " But we've heard some bad news, un- expected news. It seems you ain't as popular with our citizens as you might be. We understand that you're so little liked you wouldn't be elected in a million years." ' Who told you that? " Jack's tone was sharp. " I did." Thus Tip O'Gorman in a tone no less sharp. " And I know what I'm talking about, you can gamble on that." ' Tip's had his ear to the ground pretty steady," said Rafe Tuckleton. " He knows what's on every A Safe Man 27 voter's mind, and if we nominate you for sheriff it means the defeat of the party. Listen, and I'll explain the whole thing." Jack Murray listened in silence. When Rafe said his last word, Jack Murray laid his unlighted cigarette across the end of his left index finger and teetered it slowly. " Who you figurin' on running in my place," he drawled, his dark gaze on the cigarette. " Bill Wingo." The teetering stopped. The cigarette slipped into the fork of two fingers. The man slid to his feet. "Bill Wingo," he repeated. " Bill Wingo, huh? Well, this is a surprise." Without another word he left the room, closing the door behind him very gently. When he had gone Tip O'Gorman threw a whim- sical glance at Rafe Tuckleton. " I'd feel better if he'd slammed that door," said Tip O'Gorman. CHAPTER THREE WHAT SALLY JANE THOUGHT " CARELESS child," observed Bill Wingo, coming up on the porch where Sally Jane lay in the hammock. " You dropped your hat in the draw. I found it this morning. Here it is. Don't move, sweet one. Of course, if you asked me to sit down or didn't ask me I would, and if you felt like rustling some coffee and cake, or lemonade and doughnuts, or even just a piece of pie with a bite of cheese on the side just a bite, not over half a pound, I don't like cheese much I wouldn't stop you." " Stop calling me 4 sweet one,' " Miss Prescott said crossly. I'm not your sweet one, or anybody else's sweet one, and I'll get you something to fill your fat' stomach, you lazy loafer, when I get good and ready. Not before." " Well, all right," he murmured resignedly, settling down on the stout pine rail of the porch and fanning himself with his hat. " But I love you just the same. What's that? Did I hear you curse or something? " " Something. I only said damn because you make me sick. Love, love, love, morning, noon and night! Don't men ever think of anything else? " " Not when you're around," he told her. What Sally Jane Thought 29 " Oh, it's the very devil," admitted Sally Jane, rub- bing her red mouth with a reflective forefinger. " Am I so alluring? " " Who has been kissing you now?" he asked idly and wondered why her face should flame at the word. Wondered because everybody knew Sally Jane. On her part she wondered if he had seen what had passed in tne draw the day before, then decided in- stantly that he had not, else his manner toward her would have been decidedly different. "You haven't answered my question?" he per- sisted, still idly. " Does it need one? " " Well, no, not yet, anyway. When you're engaged to me, I'll know who's kissing you." " Don't be disgusting." " No disgusting about it. I'll probably hug you, too." " What dismal beasts men are," she said, with a mock shiver, having regained control of her jumpy nerves. " I suppose you'd enjoy having me sit on your knee." " I would indeed," he told her warmly. " I think that chair there would hold the two of us if we sat quiet fairly quiet." It was at this juncture that her father, Sam Prescott, came out on the porch. " Howdy, young Bill," said Sam. He invariably pre- fixed the adjective to Bill's name. Why, no one knew. It was doubtful if he knew himself. " 'Lo, Sam," said young Bill. " Sam," said Sally Jane from the hammock, 30 The Rider of Golden Bar 44 s'pose now a man tried to hug you, and kiss you and make you sit on his knee, what would you do? " 14 If I was you, you mean? " inquired Sam judicially. Middle-aged though he was, he never ceased to expe- rience a pleasurable thrill when his daughter called him 44 Sam." It reminded him so much of her mother. 44 If I was you," he went on, without waiting for an answer, 44 and the feller which tried to make me do all those things was young Bill here, I'd do 'em. I really believe he likes you, Sally Jane." " You think so, do you? " sighed Sally Jane, smooth- ing her frock down over her ankles. * You too, Samuel? What chance has a poor girl got without a club?" 44 1 told her if she married me," spoke up Bill, " she could have jam on Sundays and butter the rest of the week." 4 There, you see, Sally Jane ! " said Sam Prescott. 14 He'll be good and generous. And if you asked him for a new dress now and then, or a pair of shoes, I'll bet he wouldn't say no." Sally Jane stubbornly shook her copper-colored head of hair. 44 Samuel," said she, 44 you're the only man I ever loved. Bill's all right in his futile, thumb- handed way, but he's not my Sam. Now don't forget that one drink is enough for a plumpish man with a beautiful daughter, and that I want you to bring back a dozen cans of baking-powder, a dozen bars of May Rose soap, three dozen boxes of matches, four sacks of flour, sack of salt, sixty pounds of sugar, two papers of pins, four spools of number forty cotton and a pail of chocolate creams. Be sure What Sally Jane Thought 31 and take the cover off and see it's a full pail, and if Nate tries to palm off any stale stuff or hard candy on you, why just throw it in his face and tell him I'll come in and complain in person my next trip." " My Lord, Sally Jane," Sam exclaimed helplessly, " I can't remember all that! " " I know you can't," said Sally Jane calmly. " I've merely been impressing it on you that there's a lot of errands for you to do. You'll find a carefully written list of everything I want stuck in the coil of the tie- rope under the seat of the buck-board. You can't miss it when you go to tie the team." " And Sam," she added, raising her voice to a shout, for her father had already departed corralward, " be back by seven. I'm gonna make a lemon pie." Her father waved a comprehending hand and dis- appeared behind the blacksmith shop. " You see," said Billy Wingo, with a smirk of self- satisfaction, " the male parent approves. The last ob- stacle is removed. Be a sport. Take a chance. You might go farther and fare worse." " I doubt it, William. Not that you aren't a nice boy and all that sort of thing. However, tell sister why you seek her company this morning? " " Oh, yes, of course, sister not being a good excuse for coming, I did another reason. I have a fresh bale of news for her li'l pink ear. Last night I was approached " He paused dramatically. "How much did he try to borrow?" Sally Jane inquired indifferently. ""Nothing like that sweet one. The political steers- 32 The Rider of Golden Bar men of our fair county rode out to my place last night and " 44 What did the old thief want? " Sally Jane brutally wished to know. 44 Steersmen, beloved. There were two of him, and you do both old gentlemen an injustice. They " 44 So Tip came with Rafe, did he? And you mean to tell me you didn't even miss your watch after they'd gone? You didn't? They must be sick, the pair of them. What did they do?" 44 Offered me the nomination for sheriff ! " Sally Jane sat up abruptly, stuck her finger in her mouth, then held it up to catch the vagrant breeze. 44 The wind's still in the west," she said, making her eyes round as saucers. u And you are still sitting there as large as life, and I'm here alive and in my right mind! 11 Here she pinched her forearm. " That hurt," she added. 44 I really am not dreaming. They want you for sheriff, huh? " 44 Don't 4 *huh ' at me, Sally Jane. It ain't being done by the best people no more. And they want me for sheriff, really." 14 1 wonder just how much of that really is real? " He wrinkled his forehead at her. " Sometimes, Sally Jane, you talk most awful puzzling." 4 Those two old rascals! " she cried. 14 Don't you think their intentions are honorable? " Sally Jane's laughter was sardonic. "Arc they trying to fool me, or what?" he per- sisted. 11 1 don't know whether they're trying to fool you What Sally Jane Thought 33 or not," was the reply, " but they're trying to fool somebody, that's a cinch." " Do you know now, Sally Jane, I was thinking some- thing like that myself." She looked at him with a gleam of respect in her eyes. " I wonder if you really have a brain after all, William. Occasionally you give out a spark that leads one to believe that there may be a trace of reasoning power underneath your waving hair. What makes you think they have an ulterior motive? " " Humanly speaking, I dunno why; but I do." " Instinct is the white woman's burden, boy. You'd better leave it alone. But it doesn't take any instinct to tell me that there's a man and brother hiding in the cord-wood. To find the dark-hued gentleman that is the question." "Why take the trouble?" "Why? Listen to the man ! Why? So you'll know what you're up against, that's why." " But I'm not up against anything," he objected mildly. " I told 'em I didn't want the job." "What?" He rubbed an outraged ear. " No need to deafen me," said he. "Deafen you?" she cried. "I could take a club to you, you fat-head ! The opportunity of a lifetime and you turn it down I Oh ! I could shriek my head off with rage! I never was so hopping in my life! The first time an honest man is offered a political job in this county, for the honest man to turn up his nose, is " Words failed her. She almost choked. " So-o, so-o," he soothed. " Don't get so excited. 34 The Rider of Golden Bar Remember we are young but once, and every outburst brings us nearer /he grave. I hadn't reached the end of my tale when you blew up and hit the ceiling. Lemme finish, that's a good child. I told 'em I didn't want the job, but they wouldn't take ' no ' for an an- swer. They said for me to think it over, and they'd be back in a couple of days and take it up with me again." 44 Bill," said Sally Jane, leaning forward, her violet eyes shining, " I'm serious." 44 I'll try to believe it," he said, regarding her with admiration. " But just this minute you look like the most unserious thing I ever saw and the most beauti- ful. Listen, Sally Jane, I wish you'd do as I ask you. Close your eyes and plunge right in. We'd be as happy as two pups in a basket. Sign on the dotted and leave the rest to me." Which nonsense she quite properly disregarded ut- terly. " Bill, I want you to take that nomination." 14 But why, Sally Jane? I don't wanna be sheriff." "Suppose I want you to?" 11 But why should you want me to? " 11 Isn't it enough that I ask it? " 'You flirt! You're utterly shameless! You know you can twist me all round your li'l pink finger like a piece of string. You know I'm fool enough to do any- thing you ask, and " 1 Well then, good fool," she smiled her interruption, " it's all settled. You accept the nomination, and if you don't make things hum after you're elected, you're not the man I take you for." pped right off the porch rail and sat down limply on the floor. His eye-balls rolled up. His hand What Sally Jane Thought 35 fluttered over his heart. He breathed with difficulty. " At last," he muttered. " Accepted ! The shock will be the death of me ! Water! Water! With a little whisky stirred in. Just a little. Not more than four or five fingers, or perhaps six. No sugar." He got to his feet slowly and reseated himself on the rail. ' You won't go back on your word, Sally Jane," he told her soberly. " I can do lots of things you never heard of," said she. " But making two meanings grow where only one grew before is not one of them." " Joking aside," he said, " will you marry me if I take this sheriff job? " " Joking aside," said she, " would you want me for a reason like that? " " Well, no," he admitted frankly. " I'd want you to love me a lot." " I'd make a pretty worthless wife otherwise. Honestly, Bill, I like you a great deal, but there's something lacking. And when there's something lack- ing, there's nothing to be done. Love is the greatest thing in the world, Bill. It's what makes life worth living. And you musn't cheat it. If you do, you might better never have been born." He nodded. Try as he might, he was unable to feel very badly. He decided to give it up as a hope- less job. " I see," he said gravely. " Sometimes, Sally Jane, I get an idea that maybe you and me won't ~marry each other, after all. But no matter what happens, I'll always be a brother to you. You can count on me." He arose and made her a flourishing bow. 36 The Rider of Golden Bar "That," said Sally Jane, with her bright smile, kes a load off my heart. As a sister, I know I'd fill every requirement. Be a good brother now, and do as I ask. Be a sheriff." " All right," said Billy Wingo. " I will." CHAPTER FOUR HAZEL WALTON "Now there," said Riley Tyler, staring at the driver of a buckboard who was tying her team in front of the Rocky Mountain store, " now there is a girl that is pretty as a li'l red wagon, new-painted." Billy Wingo, unmoved, continued to whittle the end of the packing case he was sharing with Tyler. He did not even look at the girl, and she was a very hand- some girl. " Yeah," said Billy Wingo. " Not that I cotton to a female girl as a usual thing," resumed Riley, " ever since a experience I had when young. I'll tell you about it some time ; maybe I better now." " No, not now," Billy made Jiaste to say; for he had heard the story of every single one of Tyler's love affairs at least a dozen times. " Le's talk about somethin' pleasant. Try the weather." " You know, just for that," trundled on Riley Tyler, " we'll go on talking about young Hazel Walton over there. Pity she's gone in the store. You've never taken a good look at her, have you? " " Nor I don't want to," denied Billy with what seemed to Riley an unnecessary heat. 38 The Rider of Golden Bar 44 Why not? Do your eyes good. Tell you, Bill, she's got the best-looking black hair y'ever saw." I saw her once or twice with her uncle," Billy ad- mitted desperately. " She's all you say she is and more too. Anything to please the children. Don't you ever stop talkin', Riley?" 44 Not when I got somethin' like Hazel to talk about, 11 declared the relentless Riley, warming to his subject. 4< Y'oughta notice her eyes once, Bill. Tell you, you never saw eyes till you see hers. They're eyes, they are! Big and black and soft and eyewink- ers long as a pony's. Fact. And she ain't lost a tooth. She's still got the whole thirty-four. You take my word for it, Bill, she's a whole lot different from other folk 44 She's two teeth different anyway. Most generally all other folks can crowd in their mouth are thirty- two." 14 What's a tooth more or less between friends?" said the unabashed Riley. " She's got a whole mouth- md when she smiles she shows 'em all." 'That's great," yawned Billy, closing his pocket- knife with a click. " You forgot to say whether she's a good cook or not." 14 She's a number one cook," Riley told him seriously. 11 Her coffee is coffee, lemme tell you, and she don't fry a steak to boot-leather neither. Not her. No. She broils it, she does. Y'oughta taste her mashed potatoes. No lumps in 'em or grit or nothin', only the mealy old potato; and butter beets! My Gawd!" 11 Mixes 'em up with the potato, huh? " Hazel Walton 39 " Of course not, you jack separate. And canned peas separate. Actually she cooks those peas so they're tender as fresh ones; tenderer, by gummy! Makes her own butter, too, in a churn." " Well, well, in a churn. I never knew they made butter thataway." " Shut up, Bill. You ain't got any soul. I stop at Walton's for a meal every chance I get. Y'oughta see her cookin' a meal, Bill. She rolls her sleeves up and she's got dimples in her elbows. She's a picture, and you can stick a pin in that." " Why don't you marry the girl? " " I've asked her," was the reply made without ran- cor. u She said, 'No thanks.'" " That's one thing in her favor." " Yeah, I think Hey ! what you tryin' to do, in- sult me?" " Insult you, you tarrapin? You wouldn't know it if I did." " If I wasn't so comfortable, I'd show you some- thing," declared Riley Tyler, sliding farther down on the small of his long back. " But the heat has saved your life, William. Yeah, otherwise you'd be a corpse all bluggy in the middle of Main Street. I'm a wild wolf when I'm riled, you can gamble Yonder she comes. She didn't stay long." Billy dug the Tyler shortribs with a hard elbow. " Where's your manners? Go over and untie the lady's team." "Too far. She'd have 'em untied by the time I got there. Besides, I'm too comfortable. Another thing, I'd have to get up. No, no, I'll stay here." 40 The Rider of Golden Bar Hazel Walton stepped into the buckboard, kicked the brake-lever and swung her team like a workman. The tall near mule laid back his long ears and planted both hind feet on the dashboard. Smack! Smack! went the whip. The mule tucked his tail, shook his mean head and tried to jump through his collar. The brake-lever shot forward under the shove of the girl's straightened right leg. The sensible off mule threw his head to the left to ease the hard drag on his mouth as the girl swayed back on the near rein. The near mule, hearing the slither of the locked wheels behind him, and with his windpipe bent like a bow and his chin forced back to his chest, decided that fighting would avail him nothing and quieted at once. " Regular driver, that girl," Billy said approvingly. u It ain't every woman can drive a pair of those big freight mules. I never knew she was like that." " Lots of things you dunno," Riley hastened to say. 4 You didn't even know she was pretty." Billy hopped across the sidewalk and ran out into the middle of Main Street. The mules, hard held, slid to a halt. Billy scooped up the package that had fallen from behind the seat and hurried up to the buck- board. 4 Your tarp's slipped a little, ma'am," said he, stow- ing away the package without raising his eyes to Miss Walton, who was leaning over the back of the seat. 44 I'll tie it fast." Not till the tarpaulin was fastened to his complete satisfaction did he look up. Then he realized that Rilcy Tyler had not told half the truth about Hazel Walton's eyes. True, they were big and black and soft, Hazel Walton 41 but they were deep too, deep as cool rock pools, and they looked at you steadily with a straight look that somehow made you wish that you had been a better boy. Queer that he hadn't noticed this attribute be- fore. But at none of the two or three times he had passed the girl on Golden Bar's Main Street had she impressed him in the least. He could not have de- scribed her to save his life. Perhaps it was because he had not looked into her eyes before to-day. But he wasted no time thinking about that. He kept right on looking into her eyes. " You don't come in town very often." was his suffi- ciently inane observation. " Not very often," said she, and smiled. Yes, there were the teeth. And weren't they white ! He didn't know when he had seen such white teeth. And her mouth had a dimple near one corner. Now the dimple was gone. He wished it would appear once more. " Do it again," he found himself saying like a fool. She wrinkled her pretty forehead at him. " What? " " Smile," he said, with a boldness that surprised himself. It surprised Hazel Walton, surprised her so that she jerked around to the front, " kissed " to the mules and drove away without a word. Billy stood quite still in the middle of Main Street, with his hat off, and looked after her a moment. Then he pulled on the hat with a jerk and returned to his packing case. " What did she say to you? " Riley wanted to know. 42 The Rider of Golden Bar " None of your business," was the ungracious reply. 44 She left you sort of sudden," persisted Riley. 44 And why did you stand still in the middle of the street and look after her so forlorn and long? " 44 1 wasn't lookin' more than ten seconds," denied Billy, jarred off his balance for once in his life. 44 Shucks, I had time to roll a cigarette, and smoke it to the butt while you stood there nailed to the earth. Yeah. Tell you, Bill, you don't wanna let your feel- ings give you away so much. Bad business that is. Somebody's bound to pick your pocket forty ways. Y'oughta play poker more. That would teach "ou self-control." 44 Bluh," grunted Billy. " Think you're smart, don't you?" 11 1 know I am," returned Riley, crossing one knee over the other and diddling his foot up and down to the thin accompaniment of a tinkling spur-rowel. " I got eyes, I have. I can see through a piece of glass most generally. Oh, mush and milk, love's young^ dream, and when shall we meet again." 44 Aw, hell, shut up ! " urged Billy, and shoved his friend off the packing case and went elsewhere hastily. Riley first swore, then laughed and reseated him- self on the case. Jack Murray, passing by, stopped and sneered openly. It was obvious that Jack was in liquor. He don't care how much he picks on you, does he?" observed Jack. Riley Tyler did not move hand or foot. But a subtle change took place. Iron turning into steel under- goes such a metamorphosis. The sixth sense of an Hazel Walton 43 observing old gentleman across the street and directly in line with Jack Murray informed its owner of the sudden chill in the air. The observing old gentleman, whose name was Wildcat Simms, oozed backward through a doorway into the Old Hickory saloon. "Why are you walking like a crab, Wildcat?. 1 ' queried his friend the bartender. " Because Jack Murray is talking to Riley Tyler." The bartender, wise in his generation, was well able to fill in the rest for himself. He joined the old gentle- man behind a window at one side of the line of fire. Riley Tyler, meanwhile, was fixedly regarding Jack Murray. " Meaning? " said Riley Tyler. Jack Murray came right out into the open. " Ain't you able to stand up for yourself no more ? " There it was the deliberate insult. Followed the movement so swift no eye could follow. But Riley's gun caught. Jack Murray's didn't. When the smoke began to wreathe upward in the windless air, Jack Murray was calmly walking away up in the street and Riley Tyler was hunched across the packing case. Blood was running down the boards of the packing case and seeping through the cracks in the sidewalk. Billy Wingo was the fourth man to reach Riley. The boy, for he was not yet twenty-one, had been turned over on his back on the sidewalk. He was unconscious. Samson, the Green-Front Store owner, was bandaging a \yound in Riley 's neck. " Lucky," observed Samson, " just missed the jug- ular." 44 The Rider of Golden Bar u Where else is he shot? " queried Billy, his eyes on the blood-soaked front of Riley's shirt. 44 Right shoulder," Samson informed him. 44 I heard three shots," said Billy. " Two was close together but the last one was maybe ten seconds later." " I only found the two holes," declared Samson. But when Billy and another man picked up Riley to carry him to the hotel, Billy found where the third shot had gone. It had penetrated Riley's back on the left side, bored between two ribs, missed the wall of the stomach by a hair and made its exit an inch above the waistband of the trousers. The marshal, who had seen the crowd going into the hotel, arrived as Billy and Samson were making Riley as comfortable as possible on a cot in one of the hotel rooms. The marshal, whose surname being Herring was commonly called u Red," thrust out a lower lip as he surveyed the man on the bed. " Even break, I hear," said the marshal. Billy set him right at once. " You heard wrong, Red. Riley's gun caught. I found where the sight had slipped through a crack in the leather. Besides, Riley was plugged in the back after he was down. Do you call that an even break? " "Well, no," admitted Red Herring, who was in- clined to be just, if being just did not interfere with his line of duty. " Anybody see it besides you? " 14 1 didn't see it a-tall. I didn't have to. I heard the shots two close together and one a good ten seconds later. Oh, Riley was plugged after he was down and Hazel Walton 45 out, all right enough. Besides, Riley was lying across his gun hand when he was picked up, Samson says." " That's right," nodded Samson. " Jack was a little previous, sort of," frowned the marshal. " You think so," said Billy sarcastically. " Maybe you're right." " Well, I can't do a thing," said the marshal. " I didn't see it. And these fraycases will happen some- times." " Nobody's asking you to do anything," said Billy. " I' m looking after this." " Now don't you go pickin' a fight with anybody," urged the marshal, instantly perceiving his line of duty. " Judge Driver is dead against these promiscuous shootings." u Judge Driver can go to hell," Billy said with heat. " What's this here but a promiscuous shooting, I'd like to know? And I don't see you arrestin' anybody for it. You said you couldn't." " I didn't see this one, and besides Riley ain't been killed, and no complaint has been made," defended the marshal, who was no logician. " But where a feller says he's gonna attend to somebody, that shows pre- meditation and malice aforethought, which both of 'em is against the statute as made and provided in such cases." " How you do run on," commented Billy. But the Red Herring lacked a sense of humor. Heavy of soul, lie frowned heavily at Billy. " You go slow," was his fishy advice. " Be careful and otherwise refrain from violence," 46 The Rider of Golden Bar observed Billy, whose English became better as his tem- per grew worse. " I grasp your point of view," he added gravely. " But I don't like it. Not for a min- ute I don't. I'll do as I think best. I'd rather, really." 44 Don't you go startin' nothin' you can't finish," said the marshal, lost in a maze of words. " I don't want to have to arrest you." 44 I don't want you to have to either," Billy averred warmly. " Arrestin ' me would surely interfere with my plans. Yeah." 44 A sheriff-elect had oughta set a good example," argued the marshal. Riley Tyler rolled his head from side to side. He muttered incoherently. The men about the cot turned to look down at him. Then he said, speaking dis- tinctly : "He shot me after I was down." Billy Wingo raised his eyes and stared at the mar- shal. 44 How's that, umpire? " said Billy. 11 He's raving," snapped the marshal. " A man speaks the truth when he's thataway," re- buked Billy. " I'm going to see about this." But the marshal blocked his way. " I told you " he began. 14 Get out of my way! " directed Billy, his gray eyes ablaze. The marshal got. After all, he had no specific or- ders to prevent a meeting between Jack Murray and Billy Wingo. Let Jack look out for himself. No doubt Rafe and sundry other of his friends would be annoyed, but it couldn't be helped. The marshal be- Hazel Walton 47 took himself hurriedly to the back room of the Free- dom Saloon. Billy, coldly purposeful, made a round of the saloons first. In none of them did he find his man or news of him. Finally, from the stage company's hostler tend- ing a cripple outside the company corral, he learned that Jack had left town. " Which he went surging off down the Hillsville trail," said the hostler, " like he hadn't a minute to lose. He told me he was going to Hillsville." " Told you? " Surprisedly. " Yes, told me, sure. ' If the marshal wants me,' says he, as he loped past, ' tell him I've gone to Hills- ville.' " Here was an odd thing. Jack Murray knew where he stood with the powers that were and consequently knew that the marshal would not want him for the shooting. Yet here was Jack Murray not only leaving town hastily, as though he feared capture, but taking pains to leave word where he was going. The two facts did not fit. True, a gentleman seeking to mislead possible pursuers might lie as to where he was going. In which case such a gentleman would not take a trail like the Hillsville trail a trail visible from Golden Bar for almost five miles in both directions. But if a person wished to be pursued " I think I can see his dust still," said the hostler helpfully, pointing toward the spot where the Hills- ville trail entered a grove of pines five miles out. " I think I see it too," declared Billy grimly, and went hurriedly to the hotel for his rifle and saddle. 48 The Rider of Golden Bar Hazel Walton, jogging along the homeward way, was overtaken by a horseman. He nodded and called, " 'Lo," as he galloped by. She returned his greeting with careful courtesy. But she scowled and made a little face after his retreating back. She did not like Jack Murray. She never had. The man had repelled her from the moment she first set eyes on him. It is human nature for one to take an interest in the movement of a person one dislikes. Hazel wondered where Jack Murray was riding so fast. For it was a hot day. Her wonder grew when, twenty minutes after he had passed from sight, she perceived by the hoofmarks that he had left the trail and turned into a dry wash. She knew that the wash led nowhere, that it was a blind alley, a cul-de-sac ending in a rock-strewn, unclimbable slope that was the base of Block Mountain. This wash was a good two miles beyond where the trail entered the grove of pines five miles out of Golden Bar. Beyond the wash the trail wound up the side of a hill. At the crest of the hill the off mule picked up a stone. Hazel set the brake, tied the reins to the fel- ley of a wheel and jumped to the ground. The stone was in a near fore, and jammed tight. After ten minutes hard hammering and levering with her jack- knife she had the stone out. As she released the foot from between her knees and straightened her back, her gaze swept along the back trail. She saw only sections of trail till it passed beyond the grove of pines five miles out of town. The grove was now three miles behind her. The wash into which Jack Murray had ridden was distant not Hazel Walton 49 half a mile. The land on either side of the wash had once been burnt over and had grown up in brush and scraggly jack pine. Of the pines and spruce that had once covered the ground surrounding the wash, but one tall gray stub remained. The eye of the beholder was naturally drawn to this salient characteristic of the landscape, She saw more than the stub. She saw Jack Murray's horse tied to its bole. There was something queer about the horse's head. Whereas Jack Murray's horse when it passed her on the trail had been a sorrel of a solid color, the head was now whitey-gray. Hazel was not of an abnormally inquisitive nature, but that a horse's head should change color within the space of half an hour was enough to make any one ask questions. Ever since she and her uncle had come to realize that some one was rustling their cattle, neither of them ever left home without field glasses. Hazel pulled her pair from beneath the seat cushion and focused them on the odd-looking horse. " Why, it's a flour sack over the horse's head! " she exclaimed. " They say a horse won't whinny if you cover his head. I wonder why Jack doesn't want him to whinny. And where is Jack? " Two minutes later she found Jack. He was lying on his stomach in the brush behind an outcrop. The outcrop overlooked the trail. Jack's rifle was poked out in front of him. It was only too obvious that Jack was also overlooking the trail. Why? A few minutes later that question was answered by the sudden appearance of a rider at a berjd of the trail a mile back. Jack Murray must have glimpsed the 50 The Rider of Golden Bar rider at the same time, for Hazel saw him snuggle down like a hare in its form, and alter slightly the position of his rifle, although the rider was not yet within accurate shooting range. With a gasp she rec- ognized the rider on the trail by his high-crowned white hat: only one man in Golden Bar wore such a hat and that man was Billy Wingo. Instantly she re- called what folks were saying of Jack Murray since it had become positively known that the party nom- ination for sheriff had gone to Billy Wingo, that Jack Murray " had it in " for Billy, that he had made threats more or less vague, and that he had taken to brooding over his fancied wrongs. She realized that the threats had crystallized into action, and that this was an ambush. She knew that Billy would be masked by a certain belt of trees before he traveled another thirty yards, not to emerge into view again till he topped a rise of ground about a thousand yards from the base of the hill on which she stood. It was a certainty that Jack would not risk a shot till his enemy had crossed the rise of ground. If Hazel could only reach the top of the rise first Hazel popped up into the seat of the buckboard as Billy reached the belt of trees. It has been shown that Hazel Walton was a good driver, and she needed every atom of her skill to turn the buckboard in the nar- row trail without smashing a wheel against the rocks that some apparently malign agency had seen fit to strew about at that particular spot. The near mule, devil that he was, when he found that he was no Hazel Walton 51 longer headed for home, stuck out his lower lip and front legs and balked. This was unwise of the near mule. He should have chosen a more opportune moment. Hazel had no time to reason with him. She set her teeth, slacked the reins, opened her jack-knife and jabbed an inch and a half of the longer blade into the mule's swelling hip. It is doubtful whether the recalcitrant mule ever moved faster in his life. The forward spring he gave as the steel perforated his thick hide almost snapped the doubletree. Hazel, her toes hooked under the iron foot-rail, poured the leather into the off mule. She made no attempt to guide her galloping team. She did not need to. She barely felt their mouths, but ever she kept her whip going, and the mules laid their bellies to the ground and flew down that hill like frightened jack rabbits. And like a rubber ball the buckboard bounced behind them. Hazel knew that Jack Murray behind his outcrop must hear the thunder of the racing hoofs, the rattle of the swooping buckboard. Half-way down the hill she lost her hat. Promptly every hairpin she possessed lost its grip and her hair came down. In a dark and rippling cloud it streamed behind her. " Keep your feet, mules ! " she gritted through her locked teeth. " Keep your feet, for God's sake ! " And they kept their footing among the rolling stones, or rather a merciful Providence kept it for them. For that hill was commonly a hill to be negotiated with careful regard to every bump and hollow. Hazel's life was in jeopardy every split second, but so was another life, and it was of this other life she was thinking. 52 The Rider of Golden Bar Reach that white-hatted rider she must before he came within thousand-yard range of the man behind the outcrop. Within thousand-yard range, yes. Jack Murray's reputation with the long arm was of territorial propor- tions. He had made in practice, hunting and open competition almost unbelievable scores. Given any- thing like a fair shot, and it would be hard if he could not hit an object the size of Billy Wingo. All this Hazel Walton knew, and her heart stood still at the thought. But she was of the breed that fights to the last breath and a gasp beyond. She breathed a little prayer, dropped her right hand on the reins ahead of her left and turned the team around the curve at the foot of the hill as neatly as any stage-driver could have done it. That they swung round on a single wheel did not matter in the least. Beyond the curve one of the front wheels struck a rock that lifted Hazel a foot in the air and shot every single package and the tarpaulin out of the buckboard. And now the road passed the wash and ran straight for more than half a mile till it disappeared over the rise of ground. Throughout the whole distance it was under the sharpshooting rifle of the man behind the outcrop. As she clung to the pitching buckboard and plied the whip, she speculated on the probability of Jack Murray firing on her. He must realize her purpose. He had been called many things, but fool was not one of them. He might even shoot her. She recalled dim stories of Jack Murray's ruthlessness and grim singleness of pur- pose. Hazel Walton 53 " Bound to get what he wants, no matter how," men had said of him. Four hundred yards from the curve where the buck- board had so nearly upset, a Winchester cracked in the rear. The near mule staggered, tried to turn a somer- sault, and collapsed in a heap of sprawling legs and outthrust neck. The off mule fell on top of his mate, and Hazel catapulted over the dashboard and landed head first on top of the off mule. The off mule regained his feet with a snort and a lurch, in the process throwing Hazel into a squaw bush. Dizzy and more than a little shaken, that young woman scrambled back into the trail and feverishly set about unhitching the mule. She heard a yell from the direction of the outcrop above the wash. Fingers busy with the breast-strap snap, she looked back to see a man hurdle the outcrop and plunge toward her through the brush. "Wait!" he bawled. "Wait!" Her reply to this command was to spring to the tail of the mule and shout to him to back. He backed. She twitched both trace cockeyes out of the singletree hooks (she was using the wagon harness that day) tossed the traces over the mule's back and ran round in front to unbuckle the dead mule's reins. "Halt or I shoot!" She giggled hysterically. How could she halt when she had not yet started? She freed the second billet, tore the reins through the terrets, and bunched the reins anyhow in her left hand. He was a tall mule, but she swarmed up his shoulder by means of collar and 54 The Rider of Golden Bar h nmes, threw herself across his withers and besought him at the top of her lungs to " Go! Go! Go! " He went. He went as the saying is, like a bat out of hades. Hazel slipped tailward from the withers, settled herself with knees clinging high, and whanged him over the rump with the ends of the reins. He hardly needed any encouragement. Her initial cry had been more than enough. The man in the brush stopped. He raised his rifle to his shoulder, looked through the sights at the gal- loping mule, then lowered the firearm and uttered a heartfelt oath. It had at last been borne in upon his darkened soul that he possibly had made a mistake. Instead of shooting the mule, in the first place, he might better have relinquished his plan of ambush and gone his way in peace. There were other places than Golden Bar, plenty of them, where an , enterprising young man could get along and bide his time to square accounts with his enemy. But the killing of the mule had fairly pushed the bridge over. It was, not to put a nice face on it, an attack on a woman. He might just as well have shot Hazel better, in fact. She had undoubtedly recog- nized him. Those Waltons both carried field glasses, he had heard. " I'll get the mule anyhow," he muttered. " That'll put a crimp in her." He dropped on one knee between two bushes, took a quick sight at the mule's barrel six inches behind the girl's leg and pulled trigger. Over and over rolled the mule, and over and over a short foot in advance of his kicking hoofs rolled Hazel. Luckily she was not Hazel Walton 55 stunned and she rolled clear. She scrambled to her feet and set off up the trail as fast as her shaking legs would carry her. " Damn her! " cursed Jack Murray, notching up his back sight. " I'd oughta drop her ! She's askin' for it, the hussy! " His itching finger trembled on the trigger, but he did not pull. Reluctantly, slowly, he lowered the Win- chester and set the hammer on safety. The drink was dying out in him. Against his will he rendered the girl the tribute of unwilling admiration. " Whatsa use? She's got too much nerve; but maybe I can get him still." On her part the girl pelted on up the rise, stumbled at the top and came down heavily, tearing her dress, bruising her knees and thoroughly scratching the palms of her hands. But she scrambled to her feet and went on at a hobbling run, for she saw below her, rising the grade at a sharp trot, the rider of the white hat. Now she was waving her arms and trying to shout a warning, though her voice stuck in her throat and she was unable to utter more than a low croak. Billy Wingo pulled up at sight of the wild apparition that was Hazel Walton. But the check was momen- tary. He clapped home the spurs and hustled his horse into a gallop. He and Hazel came together lit- erally, forty yards below the crest. The girl seized his stirrup to save herself from falling and burst into hysterical tears. " Lordy, it's the girl that dropped the package ! " exclaimed Billy, dismounting in haste. He had his arm round her waist in time to prevent 56 The Rider of Golden Bar tar falling to the ground. She hung limply against him, and gasped and choked and sobbed away her varied emotions. There, there," he said soothingly, patting her back and, it must be said, marveling at the length and thick- ness and softness and shininess of her midnight hair. 44 It's all right. You're all right. You're all right. Nothing to worry about not a-tall. You're safe. Don't cry. Tell me what's bothering you? " And after a time, when she could speak coherently, she told him. It was a disconnected narrative and spotty with gasps and gurgles, but Billy made no difficulty of compre- hending her meaning. They who can construct his- tory from hoofmarks in the dust do not require a clear explanation. When he had heard enough for a working diagram he plumped her down behind a fortuitous stone and adjured her to lie there without moving, which order was superfluous. She did not want to get up again ever. Billy stepped to his horse, dragged the Winchester from the scabbard under the near fender and trotted to the top of the rise. Arrived at the crest, he dropped his hat and went forward crouchingly, his rifle at trail. Sheltering his long body behind bushes he dodged z "gzaggingly across the top of the ridge to an advan- tageous position behind a wild currant bush growing beside a jagged boulder. He lay down behind the wild currant bush and sur- veyed the landscape immediately in front of him. At first he saw nothing then two hundred yards away Hazel Walton 57 on his right front a sumac suddenly developed an amaz- ingly thick shadow. He automatically drew a fine sight on that sumac. The shadow of the sumac became thin. A dark ob- jected flitted from it to another bush. The dark object was a man's head. It was hatless. Billy smiled and decided to wait. He understood that he was dealing with a man who could shoot the buttons off his shirt, but on the other hand, Billy did not think meanly of himself as a still hunter. He lay motionless behind the currant bush and watched Jack Murray's advance. Billy smiled pityingly. It was obvious to him that Jack Murray had never been on a man hunt before. If he had he would have been more careful. " Good Gawd," Billy said to himself, " it's like tak- ing candy from a child. 1 ' It was destined to be even more like taking candy from a child. Four times before the bold Jack reached the crest of the hill he offered Billy a target he couldn't miss. And each time the latter refrained from shooting. Somehow he was finding it difficult to shoot an uncon- scious mark. If Jack had been shooting at him or had even been aware of his presence, it would have been different. But to shoot him now was too much like cold-blooded murder. There was nothing of the bush- whacker in the Wingo make-up. Suddenly at the top of the rise, Jack Murray ducked completely out of sight. " Must have seen the horse," thought Billy, and looked over his shoulder. No, it was not the horse. 5 8 The Rider of Golden Bar Billy was on higher ground than was Jack and he could not see even the tips of his mount's ears. M It can't be my hat he sees," Billy told himself. Evidently it was the hat, for while Billy's eyes were on the hat, a rifle cracked where Jack Murray lay hidden and the hat jumped and settled. " Good thing my head ain't inside," said the wholly delighted Billy, his eyes riveted on the smoke shred- ding away above the bushes on the right front. " I wonder if he thinks he got me." It was evident that Jack Murray was wondering too. For the crown of a hat appeared with Jack-in-the box unexpectedness at the right side of the bush below the smoke. Experience told Billy that a stick was within the crown of the hat which moved so temptingly to and fro. Three or four minutes later, Jack Murray's hat dis- appeared and the rifle again spoke. " Another hole in my hat," Billy muttered resign- edly and cuddled his rifle stock against his cheek. "He'll wave his hat again, and then he'll be about ready to go see if the deer is venison." Even as he foretold, the hat appeared and was moved to and fro, and raised and lowered, in order to draw fire. Then, peace continuing to brood over the countryside, the hat was crammed on the owner's head and the owner, on hands and knees, headed through the brush toward Billy's hat. Billy was of the opinion that Jack Murray's course would bring him within ten feet. He was right. Jack Murray passed so close that Billy could have reached forth his rifle and touched him with the muzzle. In- Hazel Walton 59 stead he waited till Jack's back was fairly toward him before he said, " Hands up ! " Jack Murray possessed all the wisdom of his kind. He dropped his rifle and tossed up his hands. " Stand up. No need to turn around," resumed Billy, Riley Tyler's six-shooter trained on the small of Jack's back. " Lower your left hand slowly and work your belt down. You wear it loose. It'll drop easy. And while you're doing it, if you feel like gamblin' with me, remember that this is Riley's gun and I ain't used to it, and I might have to shoot you three or four times instead of only once, y' understand." Obviously Jack Murray understood. He lowered his left hand and worked his gun-belt loose and down over his hip bone with exemplary slowness. The shock of his capture had evaporated the last effects of the liquor. He was cold sober and beginning to perceive the supreme folly he had committed in shooting a woman's mount from under her. " One step ahead," directed Billy when the gun-belt was on the ground. " And up with that left hand." Jack Murray, thumbs locked together over his head, stepped out of the gun-belt. Billy went to him, rammed the six-shooter muzzle against his spine and patted him from top to toe in search of possible hide-outs. He found none except a pocket knife which did not cause him apprehension. " Le's take up the thread of our discourse," said Billy, " farther down the hill. Walk along, cowboy, walk along." With Billy carrying both rifles and Jack's discarded gun-belt, they walked along downhill to where Billy's 60 The Rider of Golden Bar pony stood in a three-cornered doze. It was then that Jack Murray caught sight of Hazel Walton lying on her back behind a stone, her arms over her face. She looked extremely limp and lifeless. 44 1 didn't shoot her! " cried the startled Jack. 44 1 know you didn't, said Billy. " The lady's restin', that's all. We'll wait till she feels like moving." Hazel Walton uncovered her face. There was a large and purpling lump in the middle of her forehead, the skin of her pretty nose was scratched, a bruise defaced one cheek bone, and one eye was slightly black. 44 Your work, you polecat," Billy declared succinctly. 44 You'll be lynched for mauling her like that." But Hazel Walton was just. She sat up, supporting herself by an arm, and dispelled Billy's false impres- sion. 4t He never touched me and he could have shot me if he'd wanted to." 44 So kind of him not to," said Billy with sarcasm. 14 Who is responsible for hurting you ? Your face is bruises all over." 14 Is it? " she said, with an indifference born of great weariness. " I suppose it must be. I remember I struck on my face when he shot the mule I was riding. He he shot both mules." 11 He'll be lynched for that, then," Billy said de- cisively. i4 Who'll pay for the mules?" Hazel wished to know. 4< We needed those mules," she added. Billy nodded. 44 That's so. If he's lynched for this attack on you your mules same thing if you know Hazel Walton 61 what I mean you lose out on the mules. Maybe we can fix it up." " Sure we can," Jack Murray spoke up briskly. " I'm not talkin' to you," pointed out Billy. " What- ever fixing up there is to do, I'll do it. You have done about all the fixing you're gonna do for one while. Yeah. I came out after you, Jack, to make you a bet- ter boy, but now that we got you where you'll stand without hitching, I can't do it. I ain't got the heart. Of course, if you were to jump at me or something, or make a dive for your gun I'm holding, I don't say but I'd change my mind in a hurry. I kind of wish you had seen me back there a-lying under my currant bush. Then we'd have had it out by this time, and I'd be going back to town for a shovel." " Don't you be too sure of that," snarled Jack Mur- ray. " Just you gimme my gun back, and I'll show you something." " I'll bet you would," acquiesced Billy, " but I'm keeping your guns, both of 'em. I'd feel too lonesome without 'em." " Can't you do nothing but flap your jaw?" de- manded Jack in a huff. u I'd just as soon be downed outright as talked to death." " But you haven't any choice in the deal," Billy told him in mild surprise. " Not a choice. You shut up. I'll figure out what to do with you. Y'understand, Jack, I've got to be fair to Miss Walton too. If you're lynched she won't get paid for her team, and I can't have her losin' a fine team of mules thisaway and not have a dime to show for it. That would never do. Never. Lessee now. You got any money, Jack? " 62 The Rider of Golden Bar "A little." How much?" 44 Maybe ten or twelve dollars." 44 Maybe you've got more. You know you never were good at figures. Lemme look." He looked. From one of Jack Murray's hip pockets he withdrew a plump leather poke that gave forth a jingling sound. A search of the inner pocket of the vest produced a thin roll of greenbacks. But the bills were all of large denominations. 44 There," said Billy, " I knew you'd made a mis- take in addition, Jack. You count what's here, Miss Walton." He tossed the greenbacks and the heavy poke into the lap of the girl who was now sitting up cross-legged, her back against the rock. 44 Sixteen hundred and twelve dollars and sixty-five cents," announced Hazel a few minutes later. 14 How much did your mules cost? " queried Billy. " Five hundred and a quarter the team," was the prompt reply. 44 Call it six hundred," said Billy briskly. 44 It's only right for you to take something at an auction thisaway. Strip off six hundred dollars worth of green- backs and put them in your pocket." 44 Oh, I wouldn't feel right about taking more than the regular price," demurred Hazel. 1 No reason why you shouldn't. No reason a-tall. Jack's only paying you for the damage he did. He's glad to pay. Ain't you, Jack? " 11 1 suppose so," grunted Jack. 4 There, you see. Your uncle would want you to. Hazel Walton 63 I know he would. In fact, he'd be a heap put out if you didn't. Those bumps of your's now. What do you say to one hundred wheels a bump? You got three bumps and a scratched nose. Which last counts as a bump. In round numbers that makes four hun- dred dollars. One thousand dollars to you, Miss Walton." " Here ! " cried the outraged Jack Murray. " You're robbin' me ! You're takin' every nickel I got!" " No, I ain't," denied Billy, " and don't go and get excited and put those hands down. Don't you, now. About that money the worst is yet to come. Young Riley Tyler not being here to assess his own damages, I'll assess 'em for him. You put three holes in Riley. Call it two hundred dollars a hole. That makes six hundred dollars. Just put that six hundred in a sepa- rate pile for Riley, Miss Walton." " I don't mind the man paying for the mules," said Miss Walton firmly, " but I can't take any money for my scratch or two." Billy looked at her, decided she meant it and said: " All right, put that four hundred with Riley's six. Riley won't mind." " But I do ! " shouted Jack Murray, his arms quiver- ing with rage. " You can't rob me thisaway. By Gawd " " Now, now," Billy cut in sharply, " no swearing. You forget Miss Walton. You're right about the money, though. I can't rob you. Miss Walton, dump all that money back in the poke and hand it to him. He wants to go back to Golden Bar and be lynched." 64 The Rider of Golden Bar " I got friends in Golden Bar," blustered the pris- oner. " None of 'em will be your friends after I tell 'em what you did to Miss Walton, Jack. There's a preju- dice in this country against hurting a woman. Folks don't like it. Aw right, get a-going, feller. No, the other way toward Golden Bar." A hearty groan wrenched itself from the depths of Murray's being. " Uncle ! Uncle 1 " he cried angrily. 44 Have it your own way. I don't want to go to the Bar. Take all my money and be done with it." 44 1 wouldn't think of such a thing," declared Billy, 44 though it wouldn't be any more than right if I did. You're getting off too easy. You'll live to be hung yet, I'm afraid, but I can't just see my way to downing you now and here. No, you divide the money again, Miss Walton. Six hundred for you, a thousand for Riley and twelve dollars and sixty-five cents tobacco money for this gentleman. Don't bother reaching for the money, Jack. I'll put it in your pocket. There you are. Now, Miss Walton, if you'll wait here while I get this citizen started You've got a horse some- where, I expect, Jack. Lead the way." 44 Oh, sure I saw him off all right. I don't guess he'll be back for a while not if he has brains. You know, I owe you a lot, Miss Walton. You did the bravest thing I ever knew a man or woman to do. You gambled your life to save mine. You might have been killed, you know it? And after me getting fresh there in the street, I dunno what to say, I don't." He knew that he was talking too much. But in the Hazel Walton 65 reaction that had set in he was so embarrassed that it hurt. "Yeah!" he gabbled on, red to the ears, " you certainly are a wonder. I uh I guess we better be getting back to town. You feel able to ride now? My horse is gentle. Besides, I'll lead him." It was then that reaction set in for Hazel Walton. As the strain on her nerves eased off, everything went black before her eyes and she keeled over sidewise in a dead faint. CHAPTER FIVE JACK MURRAY OBJECTS " You hadn't oughta shot the girl's mules," said fat Sam Larder, shaking a reproving head at disconsolate Jack Murray. The latter endeavored to defend himself. " I was drunk." " That's no excuse," averred Felix Craft. " You had no business picking a fight with young Riley in the first place. He's a popular lad, that one, and you ain't." " He made me mad, setting there in the sun joking with that damn Bill Wingo who's gonna be sheriff in my place. Besides, I was drunk." " I saw the whole affair," said Sam Larder. " Bill pushed Riley off the cracker box and you had to slur Riley about it. Fool caper." " I never did like Riley," grumbled Jack Murray. " He's a friend of Bill Wingo's and that's enough. I figured by downin' Riley and skippin' out and lettin' that stage hostler know where I was going, Bill Wingo would come pelting after and gimme a chance to settle with him all salubrious and private on the trail some- wheres." Sam Larder bluntly called the spade by its correct name. " Bushwhack him, you mean." Jack Murray Objects 67 * Well, if I did, it's none of your business/ 1 snapped Jack Murray with an evil glance. " Then why make it our business by coming here bellyaching to me and Craft? " Sam Larder wished to know. " I came to you because I want my money sixteen hundred dollars that bandit Bill Wingo stole off me." " He didn't say anything about any sixteen hun- dred," said Felix Craft, his eyes beginning to gleam. " Tell us about it." " Yeah," urged Sam. " Give it a name." Jack proceeded to give it a name several names and all profane. When he was calmer he gave a fairly truthful account of the financial transaction between Hazel Walton, Bill Wingo and himself. u And I'm telling you here and now," he said in conclusion, " that six hundred dollars is too much for that broken-down team of jacks. And a thousand dol- lars for putting a few holes in Riley Tyler is plumb ridiculous. My Gawd, he'll be out of bed in a month. Wha' t'ellyou laughin' at?" For his hearers were laughing laughing immod- erately. They whooped, they pounded the table, they beat each other on the back till they sank exhausted into their chairs. Jack demanded again to be told what they were laughing at. " I'll leave it to anybody if this ain't the funniest thing ever happened in the territory," declared Sam Larder, when he could speak with coherence. Felix Craft nodded. " Sure is. One on you all right, Jack." 68 The Rider of Golden Bar " Aw, hell, you fellers can't make a monkey out of me." " Bill Wingo seems to have done that pretty thor- oughly," said Sam Larder with a fat man's giggle. " I'm not through with him yet," snarled Jack Murray. "Where's your sense of humor?" grinned Felix. " If you'll take my advice you'll walk round Bill Wingo like he was a swamp. Ain't you had enough? " "I want my money back! " squalled the indignant Jack. Sam Larder kissed the tips of his plump fingers. " The money's gone. Can't do anything about it now. Can we, Crafty?" " Don't see how." Jack sat up stiffly, his face red with rage. " You fellers mean to tell me you're gonna let me be robbed of sixteen hundred dollars?" Felix Craft spread eloquent hands. " What can we do?" " I thought you were friends of mine," disgustedly. ;< We are," Sam hastened to assure him. " If we weren't we'd have called in the sheriff long ago." " What's the sheriff got to do with it? " 11 He's got a warrant for your arrest for assault and battery, malicious mischief, and assault with in- tent to kill. Besides, the folks hereabout have got it in for you. I wouldn't be surprised if they hang you give 'em half a chance." u I know they would, damn 'em, but as long as they don't see me they can't lynch me, and they ain't likely Jack Murray Objects 69 to see me here in your house, Felix. But I don't like the idea of that warrant." " I suppose not/' said Felix. " A warrant follows you all over while a necktie party generally stays close to home. And no matter what the present sheriff does, I got an idea Bill won't forget that warrant any after he takes office Yeah, I know, cuss him out by all means, but after all, what are you gonna do about it?" " I didn't think he'd swear out a warrant," said Jack. Felix tendered his mite. " There's a reward offered too." A warrant was bad enough, but a reward! Many people would be on the lookout to earn such easy money. Jack Murray felt an odd and sinking sensation in the region of his stomach. " How much is it? " "Only three thousand dollars." " Only, huh. Only? Who's puttin' up the cash?" " Riley Taylor put his name down for a thousand and Hazel's uncle, Tom Walton, added six hundred, and " " Why, that sixteen hundred is my own money!" interrupted Jack Murray. " I expect so," continued Felix. " The other four- teen hundred was made up around the town." " I suppose you'll tell me you fellers put it up your- selves," said the sarcastic Mr. Murray, who did not expect any such thing. "Sure we did," said Felix. "We had to. Bill Wingo and Sam Prescott and Wildcat Simms brought the paper round, and we had to sign up. I'll be out a 70 The Rider of Golden Bar hundred if you're caught, Sam two hundred, Tip a hundred, Rafe the same, and that's the way it went. Even the district attorney chipped in his ante." Jack Murray was too horrified to speak for a minute. While he wrestled with his thoughts Sam Larder spoke. " You see, Jack," said he, " we had to sit in. If we hadn't, everybody would have said we sympathized with you, and we couldn't afford that not with elec- tions coming on. It would never do. Never. You see how it is, I guess." " Yes, I see," said Jack bitterly. " I see all right. I see you've skun me between you. That damn re- ward will make me leave the territory for a while." " Most sensible thing you could do," declared Sam Larder warmly. " We don't want to see you get into any trouble, Jack. You're young. Starting somewhere else won't be a hardship for you a-tall. We'll be sorry to lose you," he concluded thoughtfully. 44 You ain't lost me yet," Jack snapped back. " I may pull out for awhile, but I'll be back. You bet I'll be back, and when I do come back I'll sure make Bill Wingo hard to find." 44 Don't yell so loud," Sam cautioned him, " or you may have the opportunity sooner than you want it. You hadn't oughta come here, anyhow. You dunno whether you were seen or not." 44 And you don't want to get a bad name, I expect," sneered Jack Murray. 4 You expect right," Felix Craft said with candid bluntness. 4 You see, we ain't been openly connected with any Jack Murray Objects 71 scandal yet/' contributed Sam Larder, glancing at the clock, u and while it ain't daylight yet, still " He paused meaningly. * You want me to drag it, huh? " growled Jack. '' We-ell, maybe you'd better," admitted Sam. " If fifty dollars would do you any good, here it is," said Felix, thrusting a hand into his trousers pocket. Jack Murray spat on the floor. " T'ell with your money. I know who ain't my friends now, all right, and you can gamble I'm a-going right quick. See you later." So saying, Jack Murray rose and left them. He was careful to close the door quietly. When he was gone, Sam grinned at Felix. The latter broke anew into laughter. " His own money!" crowed Felix Craft. "His own money offered as a reward! If that ain't " But what it was, was drowned in the bellowing cackle of Sam Larder. Billy Wingo removed his hat and stuck a brown head round the corner of the door jamb. u Hello, Hazel ! " " 'Lo, Billy," said Hazel Walton, breaking another egg into the mixture of sugar and shortening in the yellow bowl. "Chase that sprucy chicken out, will you, there's a dear." Billy did not misunderstand. He had discovered that Hazel called any friend " dear." It was her way of showing her liking, that was all. Nevertheless, the appellation never failed to give him a warm feel- ing that felt pleasant around his heart. He shooed out the marauding and molting Wyandotte and then 72 The Rider of Golden Bar sat down on the doorstep and regarded Hazel with approving eyes. And Hazel Walton was undoubtedly good to look at as she stood there behind the kitchen table, stirring with a great spoon the contents of the yellow bowl. There were dimples in her pretty elbows that matched the one in her cheek. Billy could not see the ones in her elbows, but he knew they were there. Her eyes were downcast. He thought he had never seen such long lashes. The eyebrows were slim and perfect crescents. The round chin was made for the palm of a man's hand. But her hair, that was what Billy admired most of all. It was so heavy and thick. There was a bit of a wave in it, too. And it always looked neat and tidy. There were never any u scolding locks" at the nape of her neck, as there were on other necks that had come under his eye. But he was not in love with her. Oh, no, not he. After his latest turn- down by Sally Jane, he had made a resolve not to fall in love again, ever. But there was no harm in going to see a girl. How could there be ? Quite so. 4 Your uncle home?" he asked after a cigarette had been constructed and lit. " He'll be in for dinner," replied Hazel, with a swift flash of dark eyes. " And there I was hoping all along you had come to see me." " I came to see you, too." 4 Me too is worse, lots worse. Shows what an afterthought I am. Life's an awful thing for a girl." 14 I'll bet it is. For you especially. This is the first time I ever came here that some one else wasn't here ahead of me. Usually a feller has to fight his way Jack Murray Objects 73 through a whole herd in order to say good evening to you/' Hazel put her head on one side and looked at him demurely. " They come to see Uncle Tom." " Which is why they spend all their time talkin' to you." Hazel smiled. " I feed 'em. I'm a good cook, if I do say it myself. Stay to dinner, William ? " " Not after that," he told her firmly. " I don't want another meal here long's I live." " Just you let me catch you sloping out before din- ner's over and done with, and I'll never speak to you again as long as / live. Besides, I want you to go fill the waterbucket for me in about ten minutes, and after dinner I need some help in the chicken-house, and Uncle is busy this afternoon. So you stay and be mother's li'l helper, Bill, won't you? " " Putting it thataway," said Bill, " what can a poor man do?" Here he licked his lips cat fashion and added " Is that cake for dinner? " " Of course not, you simple thing. Here it is half- past eleven and the cake not even mixed yet. I've got a dried-peach pie though. It's outside cooling. And there'll be fried ham, Bill, and corn fritters the batter's all ready in that blue bowl. Lima beans, too, the last you'll see this year." " I saw some young ones for another crop on the vines when I came through the garden," said Billy, who was no farmer. Hazel smiled pityingly. " The frost will kill 'em before they get a chance to ripen. It can't hold off 74 The Rider of Golden Bar much longer. Do you realize it's nearly October, Bill? We almost had frost last night." " Winter's coming." " Election will be here first. Uncle Tom says you're sure to be elected. My, how important you'll be. Will you speak to a feller then, Bill? " " I might. You never can tell. Seen Riley lately? " elaborately casual. " Saw him last Sunday. To look at him now you'd never know he'd been shot, would you? He's coming to dinner to-day has some business with Uncle Tom." " Yeah, like the rest of 'em. Fen dubs on the chicken-house. You said I could help you with that, remember." Hazel nodded. u Here comes Riley ncfw." " No," said Billy, when Riley, having put his horse in the corral, made as if to step over him. " You stay right here. She's busy. She doesn't want a long, lazy lump like you clutterin' up her nice clean kitchen. Sidown on the step next mine. I don't care how close you sit." " But I do," returned Riley, seating himself opposite his friend. "Last time I sat next you I lost my to- bacco. Good thing my watch wasn't on that side." " Shucks, that watch! " Bill said scornfully. " It was good maybe when your grandad had it. It must have cost him two dollars easy." " Alia same, that's a good watch." Riley returned tranquilly. " It only loses thirty minutes a day now since I had it fixed. Say, Hazel, lemme throw this Jack Murray Objects 75 jigger out, will you? He's only sliming round to mooch a bid to dinner." " I've asked him to stay," smiled Hazel, " but I don't remember saying anything about it to you." 4 You didn't. I said I was coming. Here I am. What's fairer than that, I'd like to know? As I was sayin' before you interrupted, I saw you out ridin' last Sunday." " Did you?" indifferently. " Yeah with that nice old Samson man." " He's not old," Hazel denied vigorously, " and anyway, he's nice." " He gives her lollypops," Riley confided to Billy, " and sometimes as much as half-a-pound of chalklet creams. Oh, he's a prince." Hazel stamped a small foot. " It wasn't half-a- pound. It was it was " Her voice dwindled away. " Say a pound," offered Billy, entering into the spirit of the thing, " and that's a generous estimate." " Almost as generous as Samson," grinned Riley. " Hazel, go easy on the poor old feller. He can't afford to be givin' you expensive presents like that." "Sure not," slipped in Billy. " Why, I don't be- lieve Samson makes a bit more than fifty per cent on everything he sells." " You two think you're smart, don't you. He's a nice man, Mr. Samson is, and he spends an evening here quite often." " He never spends anything else," said Billy. " Cheap wit," flung back Hazel. " Almost as cheap as Samson," tucked in Riley. 76 The Rider of Golden Bar Hazel's eyes were beginning to sparkle, and Billy seized his opportunity. " Here, here, Riley, stop it! Don't you lemme hear you making any more slurs against Mr. Samson. He's a friend of mine, and " 41 Oh, you!" cried Hazel, instantly regaining her good humor. u You're as bad as Riley, every bit. But you almost did get a rise out of me. I don't like to hear my friends run down." " I didn't mean it anything," said Riley, with well-feigned humbleness. " I like Samson, I do, the poor old good-for-nothing lump of slumgullion." Billy shook a sorrowful head. " Honest, Hazel, I'm ashamed of you, robbing the grave thataway." " I don't believe he's much over sixty, Bill," said Riley. " Say sixty-one." " He's forty-one, if you must know," Hazel said. " I knew it was getting serious," mourned Billy. 4 They're exchanging birthdays. We'll have to find us a new girl, Riley." " Not me. I'm satisfied. I'll stick to the last shout and a li'l beyond. Hazel's only fooling these other fellers. I'll make her the best husband in four coun- ties, and she's the girl that knows it. Don't you, Hazel?" 14 I'm not that hard up," replied the girl, with a smile that belied the harshness of her words. " There, you hear? " chuckled Billy. " Now you'll be good, I guess." 14 If you won't have me for the twenty-fourth time hand-running, why not take Bill here? He's a good Jack Murray Objects 77 feller, don't drink much, and he's got a heart of gold and a brand of his own six horses and one calf at the last round-up. Besides, if all that ain't enough, he's gonna be our next sheriff. What more could a girl want? " " She'd want him to ask her first," said Hazel, not a whit put out. Riley turned to Billy in mock surprise. " Ain't you asked her yet, Bill? Shucks, whatsa matter with you? You make me sick, and she don't like it either. G'on propose. I'm with you. We all are. And she ex- pects it, can't you see ? G'on, Tommy Tucker, sing for your supper." But Tommy Tucker firmly refused to sing. Instead he seized the jibing Mr. Tyler by the ankle and skidded him off the step. u Ow-wow! You poor flap!" bawled the erst- while humorist, who had picked up a splinter. " Leg- go my leg, or I'll roll you! " But it was Riley Tyler who was rolled, and rolled thoroughly. " You boys stop that! " directed Hazel, appearing in the doorway with a bucket. " Acting just like over- grown kids! You ought to be ashamed! Bill, I'll take that bucket of water now, and Riley, how about fetching in an armful of wood for your auntie? " The two men started to obey, but stopped short in their tracks. Billy cocked a listening ear. " Wasn't that a shot? " " Down the draw," responded Riley. " Near the Hillsville trail," was Hazel's opinion. " There goes another, and another." 78 The Rider of Golden Bar "It's no hunter," declared Billy. "I can hear horses galloping." Within five minutes they three saw a horse come galloping. He was tearing up the draw. The man on his back was half-turned about in the saddle, a rifle at his shoulder. He fired. They could not see what he was firing at. There was a bend in the draw con- cealing what was behind him. But they could hear the galloping of the other horses quite plainly. The drum of the racing hoofs grew louder. Three horses swept round the bend in the draw. They were followed by two others. The pur- suers uttered a yell as they sighted the house. The pursued fired twice without effect. There was a crackle of shots from the five horsemen. Apparently none took effect on either the pursued or his mount. Billy regarded the pursued's mount with critical eyes. " That horse is about done." " Yeah," acquiesced Riley. " Not another mile left in him." It was but too evident that the horse was in distress. He rolled a little in his stride. Once he stumbled. The rider caught him up with a jerk. The man turned a desperate, determined face toward the house in the draw ahead of him. He was not fifty yards from the house. The draw was wide. He sheered his horse to one side. The animal staggered, crossed his legs and turned a complete somersault. The rider flew from the saddle, turned over in the air and struck hard on his head and right shoulder. The horse lurched to his feet and stood trembling. The man lay still. The pursuing horsemen were coming along at their Jack Murray Objects 79 tightest licks, but it was Billy and Riley Tyler who were the first to reach the fallen man. Hazel, kilting her skirt in both hands, had run with them. Billy stooped and turned over the sprawled-out citi- zen. The man, a square-jawed youngster with a stub- by brown mustache, lay breathing heavily. His sun- burnt skin was a little white. Hazel pushed Billy to one side and sat down beside the young fellow. " Let me," she said quietly, and took his head in her lap. " Riley, get me some water quick and the whisky bottle on the shelf over the fireplace." Riley darted toward the house. The five riders dashed up and flung themselves from their saddles. They were Raf e Tuckleton, Jonesy, the Tuckleton foreman, Ben Shanklin and two more of the Tuckleton outfit. Billy faced them, his thumbs hooked in his sagging belt. " Caught him ! " Raf e ejaculated with satisfaction, striding forward, his men at his heels. " He don't look shot any," said Jonesy. ." Not a hole in him," Billy told them. " He'll be all right in a minute." Tuckleton laughed harshly. " He's due for a relapse about a minute after that. Jonesy, get your rope. That spruce up there on the flat will be fine." Hazel uttered a gasp of horror. "What do you expect to hang him for, Rafe?" demanded Billy. " Caught him branding one of my calves," was the ugly reply. " Reason enough? " " I don't believe it ! " cried Hazel. " You know him? " Rafe inquired contemptuously. 8o The Rider of Golden Bar 44 1 never saw him before in my life. But he doesn't look like a rustler. He's got a good face." The Tuckleton outfit was moved to mirth. 44 A good face ! " yelped the fox-faced Ben Shanklin, slapping his leg. " A good face ! That's a fine one ! " 44 1 expect we'll have to turn him loose, boys," Jonesy said sarcastically, returning from his horse, and shak- ing out the coil of rope. 44 Oh, I guess we'll string him up all right," Rafe said with confidence. 44 Don't let them, Billy! " begged Hazel. Billy made instant decision. 44 'Nds up! " Which command was backed by a six-shooter trained on the center of Rafe's abdomen. The way the Tuck- leton hands flew upward and locked thumbs above the Tuckleton hat was gratifying. But the Tuckleton face was empurpled with rage. 44 Of course," remarked Billy, 44 one of you may hit me, but if I go Rafe goes with me." 44 It's all right, boys," Rafe assured his hesitating followers in a voice thick with anger. " Lemme argue this thing." 4 There'll be no hanging here," said Billy. 4 You bet not! " chimed in the voice of Riley Tyler from a position thirty yards distant on the right. Riley had returned with the water and whisky. He had been sufficiently thoughtful to bring with him a double-barreled shotgun. He stood, the firearm held level with his hip, the blunt twin muzzles gaping at the Tuckleton outfit. 14 Hazel," said Riley, <4 1 wanna borrow this shot- gun for a few minutes. I found it leaning inside the Jack Murray Objects 81 door. Ben, I wish you'd come over here and take this water and whisky to the lady. I'm stuck here, sort of." " You go ahead, Ben," said Billy. " Don't lemme detain you." Ben went slowly. He plumped whisky and bucket on the ground beside Hazel and then began to sidle casually toward the house. " You come right back," urged Riley, gesturing with the shotgun. " The best place for you is right beside Jonesy. He's gettin' lonesome for you already, ain't you, Jonesy? " Jonesy spat upon the ground. Ben slouched back to his comrades. While this byplay had been going on, Tuckleton had been talking at Billy. " Would you mind repeating all that? " said Billy, when Ben had rejoined the group at Rafe's back. " I didn't catch some of it." Tuckleton glared, his little eyes hot with rage. " I said that man's a cow thief and we're gonna stretch him!" " But you said that at first," pointed out Billy. " And I said 'no' then. I haven't changed my mind." " Since when have you been dry-nursing rustlers? " snarled Rafe. " I don't know he's a rustler." " I said he was, didn't I?" " You said so, sure. But you might be mistaken." " I don't make mistakes like that. And, anyway, all my boys here saw him branding that calf." " We sure did," corroborated Jonesy. " Feller had a fire all lit, and was heating a running-iron when we jumped him." 82 The Rider of Golden Bar " Did the calf have its mammy along? " was Billy's next question. No one answered. Billy, however, did not remove his eyes from Rafe's face. The pause was becoming almost embarrassing when the five Tuckletonions made reply with a rush. Two of them said " Yes," and the other three said " No." " There seems to be a difference of opinion," said Billy. " Don't you know whether the cow was along? " " She wasn't along," declared Jonesy, sticking to his original assertion. " But Rafe said she was," said Billy. 44 1 made a mistake," Rafe hastened to assure him. Billy nodded in triumph. " Then you do make mis- takes. I always knew you did. Funny how you and Jonesy saw things so different and all. Ben didn't see any cow either, and Tim Mullen and Lake did." " Maybe I made a mistake too," said Lake sullenly, taking his cue from his employer. u How about you, Tim? " persisted the questioner. Tim looked furtively from his employer to his fore- man and back again before answering. " Speak up, Tim," directed Billy, " speak up. You did or you didn't. Yes or no? " " Maybe I made a mistake," was Tim Mullen's final decision. 4 They seem to have come over to your point of view, Jonesy," Billy observed dryly. " How about you? Did you make a mistake too? " But Jonesy was not to be caught. 44 The cow wasn't along. I oughta know." 4 You don't need to be so fierce about it. I was just Jack Murray Objects 83 askin' questions. If this feller had a fire and was heat- ing a running-iron, I suppose he had a calf handy." " I said we caught him with a calf," insisted Rafe Tuckleton. " That's right, so you did. Was the calf hog-tied? " " Naturally." " And when you saw this stranger and jumped him, I suppose you came boiling along right after him? " " Sure did." Thus Rafe Tuckleton. " None of you stopped anywhere, huh?" ' Why, no, of course not. It wouldn't be reason- able, would it, if we were chasin' him, to get off and fiddle around? " " No, it wouldn't be reasonable," admitted Billy. " Then if none of you got off to turn the calf loose, the calf must still be there calf, fire and running- iron?" Rafe looked a little blank at this. So did the others. Jonesy was the first to recover his spirits. " Unless somebody else turned it loose," suggested Jonesy brightly. " But the fire and running-iron will still be there." " Of course they will," Rafe Tuckleton declared heartily. " Of course they will. But it just occurs to me that this man may have had a friend with him we didn't see. And that hog-tied calf and fire and running- iron that last may have been a cinch ring, Bill are evidence that'll hang this man. Jonesy, suppose now you ride back to the fork of that split draw south of Saddle Hill, where we saw this man's fire, and see that nobody destroys the evidence before we get there. Ben, I think you'd better go with Jonesy." 84 The Rider of Golden Bar " No," said Billy decidedly. " Jonesy and Ben will stay right here." " Remember," called Riley, " that this Greener is double-barreled." u But see here " Rafe began desperately. " No see about it," interrupted Billy. " You'll all stay right here with us till Tom Walton gets here." " But suppose somebody destroys the evidence," worried Rafe. " I don't guess they'll destroy all of it," said Billy cheerfully. " You see, Rafe, we want to go with you to the fork of that split draw south of Saddle Hill." Rafe's blazing eyes were fairly murderous. His men muttered behind him. But they made no hostile move. They realized that Rafe would never forgive them if they did. He would not be able to. In the meantime Hazel had been alternately bathing the senseless one's forehead and dribbling drops of whisky between his teeth. " He's coming round," she said suddenly. The man opened his eyes, groaned, grunted, and sat up. He blinked his eyes rapidly several times and smiled pleasantly at Hazel. ' That was a jolt I got," said he. " Is there whisky in the bottle?" He took a long and healthy pull, drove in the cork with the heel of his hand, wiped his lips and then seemed to see Rafe Tuckleton and his men for the first time. " I seem to remember those bandits giving me the chase of my young life," he remarked, nodding his head. " I don't know why. I don't know why my Jack Murray Objects 85 unknown friend with the six-shooter and my other equally unknown friend with the scatter-gun are hold- ing them up, but I'm glad they're doing it. Still, why? Why all this fuss and these feathers? " " I don't know either," replied Billy, continuing to watch Rafe Tuckleton and his men like the proverbial hawk, " but we hope to find out. When a couple of friends of mine get here, we aim to find out." CHAPTER SIX CROSS-PURPOSES ". . . and my name is John Dawson," continued the stranger, " and I'm on my way to visit my uncle at Jacksboro." " Uncle ! Jacksboro ! " exclaimed Jonesy. " Pretty smooth and thin." Tom Walton took no notice of Jonesy. :t Where'd you work last? " " Cross T in Redstone County." Tom Walton nodded. " Turberville ranch? Left ribs cattle, left shoulder and jaw horses? " " No, Tasker's," corrected John Dawson. " Left hip cattle and horses, no jaw brand." " I know," said Tom Walton gently. " I knew it was Tasker's. I had to be sure." " Whatsa use of this gassing?" demanded Rafe. " I tell you, Tom, we caught this feller branding one of my calves, and I'll gamble he's the boy been doing all the rustling on your range too." 4 You might be right. I don't know. But he tells a straight story." :t They all do. He's a rustler. Take my word for it." " But he said in the beginning," objected Tom, " that he never was near that split draw." Cross-Purposes 87 " We saw him, I tell you ! " " All right. Soon as we eat, we'll all ride over to the draw and take a squint at the evidence. " " What for ? Ain't my word enough ? " " I don't believe in gamblin' with a man's life," said Tom smoothly. " Better be sure than sorry," said Billy. " I won't be sorry none to hang him, the cow thief ! " " If I had my gun I'd argue that with you," remark- ed the prisoner pleasantly. Rafe was understood to damn all creation. Oh, he was wild. " Dinner! " called Hazel from the kitchen door. " Too bad the sheriff ain't here," grumbled Rafe, on the way to the house. " It is too bad," Tom Walton flung over his should- er. " But I sent Roy for Sam Prescott. He'll meet us on the Hillsville trail." Roy was the half of his outfiit. The Walton ranch was a little one. Even in big seasons Tom could not afford to employ more than three men. In winter he let them all go. What little work there was to be done he managed to do himself. Small rancher though he was, Tom Walton was not a nonentity in the com- munity. Folk trusted him. He was known to be honest. After dinner the whole party, excepting Hazel, took horse and rode down the draw to the Hillsville trail. Rafe and his outfit would have ridden to the trail at once. But Billy Wingo carefully shepherded them from it. " We'll keep off the trail," said Billy. " This Daw- 88 The Rider of Golden Bar son man says he's never been off the trail till he got chased off by you fellers. We may want to examine that trail for tracks later." The Tuckleton men muttered and swore, but they kept away from the trail. Soon after the party reached the vicinity of the trail, Roy, Sam Prescott and two of his men trotted into sight. Billy rode to meet them and turned them from the trail before they reached the spot where John Dawson said he had left it. Sam Prescott listened in silence to the respective stories of Rafe Tuckleton and John Dawson. He seemed unimpressed by either. When he had heard all they had to say, he dismounted and examined the hoofs of Dawson's horse. Then he and Riley, closely followed by the others, rode along the edge of the trail scrutinizing the tracks upon its dusty surface. " Here's where he says he left the trail all right," observed Bill. " You can't mistake the point of that near fore shoe. He says Tuckleton and his boys rode at him from over yonder, but if they chased him ail- away from that split draw like they say they did, there wouldn't be a single track here. They'd all be on the other side of those cottonwoods." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward said cottonwoods growing about a hundred yards to the south. u Let's go over yonder where he said they came from," said Sam Prescott. They all went over yonder. There they found the tracks of five horses. Not only that, but in a near-by depression behind some red willows they found where five horses had stood a considerable time. Cross-Purposes 89 Sam Prescott picked up in turn the hoofs of every Tuckleton horse. ' These five horses were standing here at least two hours/' remarked Sam Prescott, staring at Rafe. The latter said nothing. Really, there was nothing to say. Led by Sam Prescott and Billy, the party followed the tracks of these five horses back to the trail and into the draw leading to the Walton ranch. "You see," said Billy to Sam Prescott. "Those horses were coming on the dead jump. It's just like Dawson says. They were chasing him." Although Billy's voice was loud enough for all to hear, none of the Tuckleton outfit took it upon himself to deny the statement. It may be said that they were growing a trifle discouraged. " Le's go to the split draw," resumed Billy, when Sam Prescott had openly agreed with him. u Maybe we'll find that calf and the fire and the running-iron. But I expect that fire will be out by this time." " I guess likely." Thus Sam Prescott, and turned his horse. But they did not find the calf and the extinct fire and the running-iron. There was nothing in the split draw even remotely resembling any of these. " Come to think of it," said Rafe, weakly attempt- ing a last defense, " maybe it was another draw." " Maybe it was," admitted Sam, turning to young Dawson. " Maybe it was, but I'm satisfied it wasn't. It was a good thing for you, young feller, that Billy Wingo and Riley Tyler were on the spot when your horse fell." 90 The Rider of Golden Bar " I know it," responded young Dawson heartily. " I'm not forgettin' it. And maybe I can return the favor some bright and sunny day. Now if I can have my gun, I'll just have a word or two with the man you call Tuckleton." " No words," said Sam Prescott firmly. " Not a word. This thing has gone far enough. There'll be no shooting round here. Rafe and his outfit are goin' home now, and you're riding with me back to Tom's ranch. And to-morrow morning I'll see you off to Jacksboro. Rafe, I don't want to hurry you " Rafe Tuckleton and his outfit took the hint. " And you mean to tell me they can get away with a deal like that? " demanded John Dawson. Sam Prescott smiled wearily. " What could they be arrested for always supposing you could get the sheriff to arrest 'em, which he wouldn't." "Well " " There y'are. Of course you could call it attempt- ed assault. What's that? Under the statute, a week in jail. And who'd convict 'em? " Tom Walton laughed bitterly. " You don't know this county, Mr. Dawson. Anythng can happen here." " Seemingly it can," said Mr. Dawson in frank dis- gust. " You see," said Rafe, " I'd figured we'd have to find somebody to lynch for rustlin' so that infernal Tom Walton wouldn't be suspectin' us alia time. Shindle ran across this Dawson party in Hillsville and guessed he'd fill the bill, he being a stranger and all." Cross-Purposes 91 " So Skinny rode ahead and let you know he was coming, huh? " queried Sam Larder. " Yeah. Oh, damn the luck! Who'd have expected Wingo and Tyler to be at Walton's? " ' They did put a crimp in your plans, sort of," as- sented Larder. " And now Tom Walton is more suspicious than ever," contributed Tip O'Gorman. " I can fix that Wingo, though," snarled Rafe Tuck- leton. " He'll never get elected sheriff now." Tip smiled. " Won't he?" " No he won't he!" " That's just the thing will cinch his election. I'm gonna play it up strong in the campaign." " What ! Why, he tried to show us up ! " " And succeeded in doing it, according to your tell. That's all right; Rafe, you were a little too raw, you know. I've cautioned you about being more careful. You wouldn't take advice and you'll have to take your medicine this time. I'll explain matters to Bill, where you stand and everything. You'll find it won't happen again." With which Tuckleton was forced to be satisfied. That night Tip O'Gorman had a long talk with Billy Wingo. Tip did not tell him all he knew, by any means. Such was not his custom. To understand Tip one had to do a deal of reading between the lines. But when Tip went home, he carried with him the belief that Billy understood perfectly the desires and aims of the county machine and would be a willing worker. Billy sat looking up at the ceiling for quite a long 92 The Rider of Golden Bar time after Tip was gone. Finally he laughed silently. " Tip, you're an old scoundrel/' he said aloud, " but I can't help liking you, just the same. I hope I don't have to step too hard on your toes." CHAPTER SEVEN RAPE'S IDEA " TELL you what, Jonesy," said Rafe, " this ranch needs a mistress." Jonesy laughed as at a pleasantry and continued to talk of the mischance in the matter of young Dawson. " I mean it," interrupted Rafe, wagging his head. " I'm tired of living single." " Well," said Jonesy, " you can always get some petticoat to live with you for a while." " I don't mean a floozie. I mean a sure-enough lady like." " Oh, one of them, huh? I dunno, Rafe. I mar- ried a good woman once, and take it from me they sure cramp a feller's style." " It depends on the woman. There are women and women. If a feller is careful who he picks, he don't run a bad chance. Me, I got my eye on young Hazel Walton." Jonesy looked his astonishment. " Her? " " Why not?" " After this Dawson business?" " Why not?" " She wouldn't look at you." " Don't you fool yourself. Why wouldn't she took at me, I'd like to know? I got money. She could 94 The Rider of Golden Bar wear good clothes and have help in the kitchen. What more could a woman want? n Jonesy shook his head. " This Dawson business has queered you there, and you can bet on it." " Oh, that's easy explained to her." " H-m-m-m, well, maybe so. I dunno, she looks to me like one girl who knows her own mind. And there's Tom Walton who don't like us, either. You gotta think of all these things." " I have. The more I think of it, the more I think she'll do." 44 Funny you never noticed it before. She's been around with her uncle several years now." 44 1 never even gave her more'n a short look till I seen her holding that Dawson man's head in her lap, and then stickin' up for him the way she did. I tell you, she looked mighty handsome." 44 She's a lot younger than you." ' 4 What's a few years between man and wife? Be- sides, I ain't so old. I ain't forty yet." 4 You will be next year, and I'll bet she ain't twenty yet." 44 She'll last all the longer." It was mid-morning next day, when Hazel was mak- ing butter, that a rap sounded on the kitchen door. 44 Come in," she called continuing to turn steadily the handle of her box churn. It was Rafe Tuckleton who opened the door and walked in. Hazel's eyes narrowed at sight of the man. Rafe Tuckleton! What on earth did he want? 44 Uncle's out," she said shortly. 44 1 didn't come to see him," explained Rafe, with a Rafe's Idea 95 smile he strove to make ingratiating. " I came to see you." " I don't know what you can want to see me about." " I have my reasons," said Rafe vaguely. Hat in hand, he started to sidle to a chair. " Don't they have any doors where you live?" Hazel inquired sharply. u Oh," Rafe wheeled hastily and closed the door. He set a trifle to the young lady's account. He was not accustomed to being talked to this way. The snip ! He gained the chair at last, sat down, crossed his legs and crowned a sharp and bony knee with his hat. " Yeah," he intoned, pulling one horn of his crescent- shaped mustache. u I come to see you." It never occurred to him to offer to turn the churn-handle for her. In his estimation women were made for the especial comfort and delectation of men. Why put oneself out? Quite so. Hazel continued to turn the handle in silence. " Makin' butter? " was Rafe's next remark. " Not at all," Hazel replied sweetly. " I'm wash- ing blankets." As humor it was not subtle. But neither was the man subtle. He laughed aloud and slapped his knee. " Pretty good. Got a tongue in your head, ain't you?" Again he pulled his mustache and favored her with what he conceived to be a most fetching leer. He succeeded in making her yearn to hurl the churn at him. " You've seen me," she said suddenly, raising her dark eyes to his face. " Why not move right along? " " That's all right," he said easily. " You're only 96 The Rider of Golden Bar mad at me account of that business the other day. Nothing at all, that wasn't. Just a li'l mistake. We all make them. You mustn't hold it against me." 41 But I do hold it against you ! " she cried vehement- ly. " You tried to murder him ! " Rafe raised a bland hand, palm outward. " Not a-tall. You've got it all wrong. I might have known you would. Women never do get things straight." 44 1 got this straight all right, and you might as well know I haven't a bit of use for you, and I don't want you in my kitchen. So there ! " 44 Now listen, li'l girl," he said persuasively. " You don't understand me a-tall, I tell you. I may look hard a rough diamond but I'm the pure quill under- neath, and I like you." Hazel was so surprised that she stopped churning. She stared at him, saucer-eyed, her mouth open. Rafe nodded his head at her. 44 Yeah, I like you. I have liked you a-uh-long time. And I've got a proposition to make you. How'd you like to marry me?" Hazel's expression registered immediate distaste. 44 1 wouldn't like. Not for a minute. No." Rafe considered it necessary to explain matters more fully. u I mean marry me all regular and go to live at my ranch. You wouldn't have to work hard. You could have the washin' done and have help in the kitchen. I'm a mighty easy feller to get along with too, once you get to know me." " I don't want to get to know you ! " Hazel had resumed her churning, but her negation was no less decisive. Rafe's Idea 97 " I'd be good to you. Give you all the dresses and fixings you want in reason. Say, I'd even have one of these cabinet organs packed in for you. New furni- ture, too in reason. I'll be generous. I've got money, and I'd sure be willing to spend it on a girl like you." " You needn't bother." He removed his. hat from his knee, uncrossed his legs and dropped the hat on the floor. He propped his hands on his knees and surveyed her, his head on one side. " You don't know what you're refusing," he told her. " Marry me and you won't have to work like this. Nawsir. I'm a rich man, I am. Here, let's talk it over." He rose to his feet and came toward her. She promptly reached behind her and possessed herself of the singing kettle. " If you touch me," she said hysterically, " I'll douse you with boiling water! " " There, there," he said, with a light laugh, " I didn't mean to scare you. Set the kettle down, there's a good girl." But the good girl had other ideas. " You get out of here. I don't want you around." Her show of temper caused his own to flare up. " There's no use for you to get mad. None a-tall. You act like I'd insulted you instead of doing you a honor." At which her sense of humor came to her rescue and she laughed in his face. He picked up his hat and faced her, scowling. 98 The Rider of Golden Bar " I ain't mad," he told her. " Not a bit. It don't pay to get mad with a woman. But I want you to know I'm comin' back for another answer. I ain't satisfied you mean 'no.' And, anyway, I want you, and I'm gonna have you. That's all there is to it. You think it over." He nodded stiffly, still scowling, and started toward the door, but paused with his hand on the latch. When he turned and came back to the table, she instantly re- treated to the stove and laid her hand on the kettle. 44 You needn't go to pick up that thing," he said, both fists clenched on the tabletop. u I ain't gonna hurt you. I want to know something. Billy Wingo comes here, doesn't he? " 44 He comes yes. Why not? " 44 You like him?" 44 What's that to you?" 44 Do you like him?" 44 He's a friend of mine." 44 A girl don't flush up that way over a friend. I know. And I've heard, too. They say you like Bill Wingo a lot. They say you were going with Nate Samson till you met Bill. Is that right? " 14 It's none of your business." u Lemme tell you something, young lady. Don't you think for a minute that Bill Wingo feller can give you one tenth what I can. Just because he was elected sheriff last week don't signify. Yours truly is the dog with the brass collar around here, and don't you forget it. You marry Bill, and you'll regret it." 14 If I marry you, I'll regret it, that's sure." ' Not a bit of it. I'm ace-high in the county now, Rafe's Idea 99 and I'll go higher in the territory. You can't keep me down. I'll make money, more'n you can shake a stick at. You needn't think you'll have to live on a ranch all your life. Within three years after you marry me I'll take you yes, I'll take you to Hills- ville to live where you can see folks all you want. You know Hillsville has almost three thousand people. You wouldn't be lonesome there. I " " It's no use talking," she interrupted, taking care not to remove her fingers from the kettle. " I wouldn't marry you or anybody else of your crowd, not if he was the last man on earth." " 'My crowd !' What's the matter with my crowd? " " Your crowd ! Yes, I'd ask, I would ! What do you suppose I mean? The gang that runs this county, that's what I mean! The gang that has a finger in every crooked land deal and cattle deal, the gang that cheats the Indians on the government contracts. Yes, and if it hadn't been for your gang and for what they've done to the morals of Crocker County, you wouldn't have dared to try and lynch young John Dawson the way you did ! Let me tell you something: The new sheriff will show you a thing or two. He is honest!" " Is that so ? Honest, is he ? You know who elect- ed him, don't you? We did, and we own him, body and soul and roll. He'll sit up and talk when we tell him to, and he will lie down and go to sleep when we tell him to; and if he don't, he's mighty liable to run into a spell of bad health. Not that we'll want him to do anything he shouldn't. Not us." Thus Rafe Tuckleton, realizing his temper had carried him away ioo The Rider of Golden Bar and he had said too much by half, thinking it well to right matters if he could, continued hurriedly: u Those cattle deals you spoke of and the govern- ment contracts weren't crooked a-tall. Just straight business, but of course the fellers we got 'em away from are riled up and bound to talk. Naturally, natu- rally. But don't you get the notion in your head that everything wasn't all right. Everything was perfectly straight and aboveboard, you bet. Shucks, of course it was. I could explain it to you mighty easy, but it would take a lot of time and whatsa use ? Politics ain't for women, or business either, for that matter. You tetter forget what you've heard about our crowd. It's just a pack of jealous lies, that's all, and if you'll tell me the name of who told you anything out of the way about us, I'll make him hard to find." " I know what I know," said the stubborn Miss Walton. " You can't fool me ! Not for a minute I And I've listened to you long enough ! You get out of here and don't you come back! Flit! " She swung the kettle from the stove. Rafe Tuck- leton sprang back two yards. His temper had again gained the ascendancy. He was so mad he could have beaten her to a frazzle. But there was not a club handy, and moreover the lady had, by way of rein- forcing the kettle, slipped a butcher knife from the table drawer. " All right," gritted Rafe, and turned around from the door to shake his fist at her. " I'll get you, you li'l devil ! You needn't think for a minute you can get away from me by marrying some one else. I don't give a damn whether it's Bill Wingo or who it is! Rafe's Idea 101 Within a week after you get married, you'll be a widow ! A widow, y'understand ! I'll show you ! " He went out, slamming the door. Hazel made haste to run around the table and drop the bar in place. Then she went to the window and watched the man cross to the cottonwoods where he had tied his horse. She uttered a sharp " Oh! " of disgust as he jerked at the horse's mouth and made the animal rear. He brought it down by kicking it in the stomach. " What a beast!" muttered she, with a shudder. " What a cruel beast that man is." Not till Rafe rode away, quirting his mount into a wild gallop, did she return to her churning. She found the butter had come, and she removed the elmwood dasher and poured off the buttermilk. She put the butter into a long bowl full of water and began to wash and knead it, but not with her accustomed brisk- ness. She was thinking of what Rafe Tuckleton had said. He would come again, the brute. She did not want him to. He had made her afraid. She shivered a little as she poured off the water in the bowl and refilled it from the water bucket behind the door. She had no desire to marry anybody yet. She supposed she would some time, of course. All girls did eventually. But he would have to be some nice boy she loved. She guessed yes. At that very moment a certain nice boy was riding up the draw toward the Walton ranch. He met Rafe Tuckleton riding away. Rafe gave him a nasty look. The nice boy smiled sweetly and pulled his horse across the trail. " Why all the hurry-scurry this bright and summer day? " 102 The Rider of Golden Bar It was not a bright and summer day. It was late fall, the clouds were lowering darkly and there was more than a hint of winter in the air. Rafe Tuckleton pulled up with a jerk and a slide. "What do you want?" " I don't know yet," was the reply, delivered with still smiling lips but accompanied by a look as chilling as the day. " You been at Walton's? " " Yep, I have. Not that it's any of your business." " Maybe you're right. Let's go back and make sure." Rafe's blazing rage was so augmented by this naive suggestion that his native prudence was almost over- come by the sharp impulse to argue the matter. But almost is not quite. His coat was buttoned, and his six-shooter was under his coai. Bill Wingo's six- shooter was likewise under its owner's coat, but the coat was unbuttoned and Rafe recalled another day, a day when he had held his hands above his head while the muzzle of Wingo's gun gaped at his abdomen. That had been a quick draw on the part of Billy Wingo. Uncommonly quick. What happened once may happen again. This is logic. The logician spat upon the ground. " Because you're elected sheriff now, you needn't think that you can boss everybody in the county." " But I ain't trying to boss anybody," denied Bill. u I'm only askin' a favor of you, only a li'l favor. And I'm hoping you'll see it that way. I don't want any trouble with you, Rafe," he added, " or with anybody else." Rafe hesitated. He stared into Bill's eyes. Bill Rafe's Idea 103 stared back. Rafe did his best to hold his eyes steady. But there was something about that gray gaze, some- thing that seemed to bore deep down into that place where his sinful soul lived and had its being. The Tuckleton eyes wavered, veered, came back, clung an instant, then looked away over the landscape. " Turn your horse, Rafe," said Billy Wingo in a soft voice. Rafe Tuckleton turned his horse. They rode back to the Walton ranch in silent company. Dismounting at the door, Billy was careful to keep his horse between Rafe and himself. Billy looked across the saddle at Rafe. " You better knock at the door, feller." With extremely bad grace, Rafe obeyed. Follow- ing the knock, a window curtain was pulled aside and Hazel looked out. She nodded and smiled at Billy. The curtain dropped. Billy heard the grating of the bar as it was withdrawn from the iron staples. The door had been barred, then. Why? Was Rafe in- deed the qualified polecat Billy had half-way suspected him of being when he meet him hurrying away from the Walton ranch? But Hazel's smile had been natu- ral as ever. Bill took comfort in that fact. The door opened. Hazel stood wiping her damp hands on her apron. " To, Hazel," said Bill. " Everything all right? " Hazel smiled again. She did have beautiful teeth. There was the fetching dimple too. " Why, of course everything's all right," she told him. " Why wouldn't it be?" Bill noticed that she did not look at Rafe Tuckleton. 104 The Rider of Golden Bar 44 Here's Mr. Tuckleton," said he. -I see him," shortly. "And you're sure everything's all right?" Bill drawled in a lifeless voice. 44 Of course I'm sure." " And you're sure everything has been all right all day?" Hazel nodded. " Of course it has. Won't you come in, Billy before the kitchen gets all cold? " 44 I'll put the li'l horse under the shed first. He's kinda warm. Rafe, don't lemme detain you. You seemed all in a rush when I met you." Rafe Tuckleton lingered not. Billy Wingo led his mount under the shed and re- turned to the house. Hazel was pouring off the wash- ing water when he entered the kitchen. 44 What made you bring Tuckleton back? " she asked pouring fresh water over the butter. 44 1 met him coming away from here, and I didn't like the way he looked. I thought maybe " He let it go at that. 14 He was here for a while," said Hazel, bringing her bowl to the table and beginning again to knead the yellow mass of butter. " I don't like that man." Billy was at the table instantly. " Look here, Hazel " 11 Look here, Billy," she mimicked, lifting calm black eyes to his face. " Don't you go fussbudgeting. I'm quite capable of managing my admirers." ' Admirers ! Him ! " gasped Wingo. He proposed to me. I turned him down." 4 Shows your good sense," said Billy, going over Rafe's Idea 105 to the chair lately vacated by Rafe Tuckleton and sit- ting down. " But I'd like to know what he's thinking of, the old jake." Her amused eyes sought his. " Am I such a poor match as that? " " You know what I mean," he grumbled. " He's got no right proposing to you, no right a-tall. Why, he's old enough to be your father." " So he is. Do you know, I never thought of that? " " You're foolin' now," grunted Billy. " Tell you, Hazel, what you want is some young feller with pro- perty and all his teeth." " I don't want anybody," she declared, " young or otherwise. Billy, you're sheriff now " she con- tinued, changing the subject. " Not yet," he interrupted. " I don't take office till the first of the year." She nodded. " I understand. And I want to ask you a question. It's it's you will say it's none of my business, I expect." " Anything's your business you want to ask questions about. Fly at it." " Who elected you sheriff, Billy? " He regarded her in some surprise. ' The voters." " I know, but who manages the voters? " " You mean the party machine? " " That's it. Well now, Bill, suppose the machine put a man in office, would he have to do what the machine told him? " " He would, if he was that kind of a man." She straightened and gave him a level look. " Billy, 106 The Rider of Golden Bar they say the gang that runs this county elected you sheriff." 44 Who's they Rafe Tuckleton? " " Never mind who. What I want to know is do you have to do what that gang tejls you to do? " " I don't have to. Has anybody been saying I'd have to?" " I you hear rumors sometimes, Billy. Will you have a free hand, then? " 44 So far as my powers extend, I will," he said. 44 And you'll use it?" 44 I'll use it," curiously. 44 Is is that quite safe ? " 44 Safe?" 44 Safe to antagonize the gang? " " It may not be safe for the gang." Hazel raised a great gob of butter in her two hands and squeezed it out slowly between her fingers. 44 Couldn't you give 'em their way, sort of? Not in everything. I don't mean that. But just enough to keep 'em good-natured? " His curiosity changed to blank amazement. " You know what you're asking, I suppose," he said coldly. 44 1 thought you didn't like Rafe Tuckleton? " 44 1 hate him," was her simple statement. " But I I'm afraid." " Afraid? How afraid?" " Afraid for you." : 'Why for me?" 44 Because oh, it's so hard to explain ! " she almost wailed. u You misunderstand me so. You think I'm asking favors on their account! " Rafe's Idea 107 He believed he detected a sob in her voice. This would never do. Couldn't have Hazel crying. " If you'd only explain," he suggested soothingly. " Well," she said, her hands busy in the butter, " Sally Jane Prescott was over here yesterday, and she said what a darn good thing your election was for Crocker County; how you'd reform it and all that, and how you'd surely put out~of business the gang that's running it now. I agreed with her, of course, but I never really realized till till later what it might mean to you" She paused. He awaited her pleasure. After a minute's silence she continued. " You see, Billy, you've been pretty nice to me uncle and me. And you've come to be sort of a sort of a friend kind of and -r and I we don't want to see you hurt," she finished with a rush. " So that's the reason you think I'd better go easy on the gang." " It will be safer. You don't have to be too open about it. You can arrest the people the gang doesn't care anything about." " That would be hard on the people, I should say." " It's better than running into danger all the time. I tell you, Billy, as true as I stand here this minute, if you try to fight the gang, you won't last out your term." She clasped her hands and regarded him piteously. When a pretty girl clasps her hands and regards you piteously, what are you going to do? Right. You can't help yourself, can you? Neither could Billy. But when he had kissed her three times on the mouth she pushed him away and cried distractedly. ' You io8 The Rider of Golden Bar mustn't ! You mustn't ! You don't know what you're doing!" " Oh, yes, I do," he assured her and seized her buttery hands. " We'll be married to-morrow! " At which she whipped her hands from his grasp and put the table between them. " No ! Go over there and sit down I " " I won't ! I love you ! And you love me 1 " " I don't/' she stormed. " What did you kiss me back for then? " he demand- ed triumphantly. " You did! You know you did! I felt you!" This was true. But she continued to keep the table between them, despite his efforts to come around to her side. " You go over there and sit down please ! " she begged. " Please, please, pretty please ! " He went slowly. He sat down. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and teetered his heels on the rowels of his spurs. *' Look here, Hazel," he complained, for he was feeling most ill-used, " I don't understand this a-tall. You lemme kiss you three times and then you shove me away, and when I ask you to marry me, you run behind the table. What did you let me kiss you for if you don't love me? " " I couldn't help myself. You were so quick." 1 You kissed me back, too. Don't forget that." " It was a mistake, all a mistake. You don't love me." 4 You don't know a thing about it. I do love you. And you love me, you know you do." Rafe's Idea 109 But by this time she had regained complete control of herself. " I don't know anything of the kind. Let's forget it." As if he could forget the pressure of her soft lips! Why, for another such kiss he would cheerfully have fought a grizzly. For that's the kind of a kiss it was. He shook his head. " I can't forget." Her poor heart almost choked her at the words. She wanted him to kiss her again, and keep on kissing her till she told him to stop. How wonderful that would be ! But she stifled the desire with an effort of will that turned her cheeks white. " You must forget," she told him, her chin wobbling. " Tell me you don't love me, and I'll do my best." " I don't " she began and paused. To save her life she could not tell this man the contrary of what every fiber of her being was proclaiming. She could not. She compromised. " I don't know," she said tightly. " I don't know." " But I know," objected Billy. " You just give me a " " No," she interrupted, " don't plague me, Billy, please don't. Just just don't ask me again, that's all." " Is there anybody else? " he demanded. She shook her head. " No one." " Then I've got a chance." But at this she took fright anew. " You mustn't think of it! You mustn't! I can't marry you now, Billy." " Now? All right, some other time." He stooped over as though to pick up something no The Rider of Golden Bar from the floor. Apparently he overbalanced himself, for he fell forward on his hands and knees. When he picked himself up he was within arm's length of Hazel. He reached out two triumphant arms and swept her against him. A bare instant she struggled desperately. Then with a sigh she relaxed and put up her mouth to be kissed. " There, there," he said later, his lips pressed against her hair, " I knew it would be all right once you let yourself go." She lifted her body slightly in his arms. "Tell me you love me, dearest/ 5 Then when he told her, she asked, " How much? More than anything else in the world? Are you sure?" What ridiculous questions. Of course he was sure. 4 Then you'll do anything I ask, won't you? Prom- ise?" She raised her head from his shoulder. " Prom- ise?" she repeated, her warm lips on his. Even as her arms tightened about his neck, he felt a tightening at his heart. And the latter was not a pleasant tightening. What did she mean? He loved her. God, how he loved her dark loveliness, but what was she driving at? " I can't promise till you tell what you want me to do." " No, say you promise. Say it, say it." But he would not, and she tried a new angle. " If I tell you, will you promise ? " " After you've told me," he persisted. Rafe's Idea HI She sat up straight at this and took his face between her two arm palms. " Billy, you know I love you, don't you ? " Looking into her eyes how could he doubt it. She resumed. " You know I wouldn't ask you to do anything that wasn't for your own good, yet you won't promise the first promise I ever asked you to make." He shook his head. " I can't." " All right, I'll have to tell you then, Billy. I've heard things about your job. I've heard that if you don't do exactly as the gang says you'll be kuk- killed. Oh, not exactly in those words, but I know what was meant. No, I shan't tell you where I heard it. It doesn't matter anyway. It was bad enough when you I thought you were just a friend, but now now when you're just everything to me, I cuc-can't bear to have you run any risks. Suppose something happens to you, what would I do? I'd die, I think. I'd want to, anyway." At which he tried to kiss away her fears, but these were too deep-rooted for any such old-fashioned remedy as that to be of any avail. " No, no, don't! " she protested, holding his head away by main force. " Not now. I'm not through yet. Listen. You'll fight the gang, I know you will." He nodded a slow head. " I've got to. That's why I took the job of sheriff." " I knew it," she said sadly. " But you can resign, can't you? " " I could, but I won't." " Not if I ask you to?" " I can't. It would be lying down without a fight, 112 The Rider of Golden Bar and I've never done that yet. They'd say I was afraid of 'em." " What does it matter what they say? You'll have me. We'll be together." He put up a hand and stroked the tumbled waves of her black hair. " You wouldn't love me if I did a thing like that. You'd know I wasn't doing right." She shook his face between her hands with gentle earnestness. " Yes, I would! I would I I know I would! Everything you do is just right! It would be right if you did it! Don't you see? What does anything matter so long as we have each other? Why do you have to risk your life? Oh, take me away, be- loved, take me away and I'll marry you to-morrow! " Because of what he did then, you'll say he did not love her. But he did, heart and soul and body, he loved her. Yet he put her resolutely from him and held her off at the full stretch of his arms. " There's more to this than you've told me," said he shrewdly. " You're scared. You're scared bad, but it isn't only the thought of the gang that scares you. There's something else. What is it? " At first she would not tell him. He argued with her. Finally she surrendered. " If you marry me and stay here, you'll be killed." He threw back his head and laughed. " Is that all that's worrying you? We'll be married to-morrow, like I said." ' No, we won't unless you take me away at once. No, don't kiss me. I mean it." 4 Who told you I'd be killed? " " I won't tell you." Rafe's Idea 113 " Tell me, and I'll make him come here and take back everything he said." But the recollection of what Rafe Tuckleton and his outfit had almost succeeded in doing to John Dawson was too fresh in her mind. She did not dare tell Billy who had told her. She knew right well that if she did it would simply mean that her lover would be killed the sooner. The odds against him were great enough as it was. She shook her head. Her eyes were bright with pure terror. "I can't tell you!" she whispered in agony of spirit. " I can't! " " Was it Rafe?" " I can't tell you ! " twisting her head to escape his eyes. "It was Rafe!" " It wasn't Rafe ! " she lied wearily. " It doesn't matter who it was. Oh, boy, boy, I don't dare marry you if you stay here. And I want to marry you, dear heart. I love you so ! I love you ! Oh, let's go away where we can be happy together ! Why won't you be sensible and take the easiest way out? " " God knows I would if I could, but I've got to play the hand out. I can't back down because there may be a li'l danger. You know I can't, and down deep you don't want me to. Listen. When you saw Jack Mur- ray was out to bushwhack me, what did you do ? Did you take the easiest way out and go on about your business, or did you jump right in and risk your life to save mine? " " That was different," said she piteously, realizing that her cause was lost, but fighting to the last. " I II 4 The Rider of Golden Bar did it for you. I'd be willing to die for you any time. Boy! I love you so hard, nothing else matters! Nothing! I'd lie, steal, cheat and fight for you! Oh, I'm shameless, shameless! But that's the way I love you! Why can't you give up everything for me the way I would for you and take me away and marry me?" He was more than a little shaken. He had to summon all his resolution to withstand her pleadings. But he did more. He got upon his feet and thrust her down into his place in the chair and held her there with one hand for all she struggled might and main to wind her arms again around his neck. " Listen to me," he said in a voice that trembled. " You don't know what you are asking me to do. If I did it, I'd be a dog, and I won't be a dog even for your sake. Marry me now and we'll see it through, you and I together." She shook her head. "I I can't," she whispered, and added with most human logic, " I don't believe you love me ! " At which he was moved to wrath. " It's you that don't love me ! You listen here ! I've asked you for the last time to marry me ! You turned me down for some fool notion that isn't worth a hill of beans. All right, let it go at that. If ever you change your mind, you'll have to come to me and put your arms around my neck and tell me I was right to stick it out and you were wrong to want me not to. And if you don't do it, you're not the girl I took you for, and I wouldn't look at you with a telescope ! " She sat speechless. Without another word he Rafe's Idea 115 stooped, swept his hat from the floor and went out. And, it must be said to his discredit, he slammed the door behind him. A long five minutes Hazel was staring wide-eyed at the door. But he did not come back. She crept to the window. He was riding away down the draw. He did not look back. He passed out of sight around the bend. Hazel slid quietly to the floor and, her face buried in her hands, began to cry as if her heart would break. For her little world had been shattered and she was left disconsolate among the fragments. Her man did not understand. CHAPTER EIGHT THE NEW BROOM TIP O'GoRMAN sat comfortably near the red-hot stove. The wind and the snow were blustering out- doors. It was what the people you yearn to kill call a bracing day in January. Actually the weather was such that the well-known brass monkey would have been frostbitten in at least one ear. " It's a good old world." Tip sighed luxuriously and wiggled the toes of his roomy slippers. Entered then one who changed the pleasing aspect of the good old world. Judge Driver slammed the door behind him and un- tied the comforter that held the hat to his head. He removed the hat and buffalo coat, hung both on pegs behind the door, sat down and glared at Tip O'Gor- man. ii You've done it now/' exclaimed Judge Driver. ''What particular thing have you on your mind? " Tip queried equably. 4 The sheriff you were so set on having elected ! Oh, yes, says you, put in an honest man. Give the dear people a bone to chew on. And we took your advice and gave 'em their bone. And now look at the damn thing." 44 What's happened to the sheriff? " The New Broom 117 " Not a thing. I wish something would. It's what's happening to us that bothers me. Your fine li'l love of a sheriff is appointing his own deputies." " The law gives him that privilege." " You don't understand. I had picked two deputies for him to appoint good safe men. You know that part was left to me, and I fixed on Johnson and Kenealy. This morning I mentioned their names to the new sheriff. * I thank you kindly for your good intentions,' says Bill, or words to that effect, 'but I have already decided to appoint Shotgun Shillman and Riley Tyler.' " "What?" "I'd. say what! I'd say hell, I would! Ain't it nice, ain't it funny, ain't it a pretty state of affairs? And what are you going to do about it? " " Has he appointed 'em yet? " u They're sworn in by now. He said he was expect- ing 'em any minute when I left." " Shillman's the nearest," said Tip, glancing out of the partly frosted window pane, " and he lives forty miles away. I wouldn't count on those boys being ap- pointed to-day. The storm may have kept 'em away." " No such luck," growled the judge. " They're ap- pointed, all right enough." " Think so if it makes you happy," Tip said with a grin. " You're always such a pessimist." " Here ! " snarled the judge. " Don't you try to ride me, Tip. Say right out what you mean." " I did," smiled Tip. " However " Huh," snorted the judge, and put his feet on the table and began to pull at his lower lip. n8 The Rider of Golden Bar " Shotgun Shillman and Riley Tyler," murmured Tip musingly. u Hum-m-m ! " 44 Can't you think of anything to do but buzz like a bee? " demanded the irritated judge. 44 There's lots of things you can learn from bees," protested Tip O'Gorman. 44 Maybe they do buzz some, but they gather lots of honey." 44 We'll gather lots of honey, won't we? " snapped the other. 44 Both Shotgun and Riley are absolutely honest." 44 And sharp infernal sharp. Don't forget that." 44 You take it easy." 44 Spilt milk. We've overlooked a bet, that ? s all." 44 Oh, that's all is it? I tell you it won't be all. I've got a hunch." 44 Don't be superstitious. Politics is no place to play hunches." 44 Apparently it isn't even a place to play common sense," said the judge. 44 If it hadn't been for you and your advice, we wouldn't be in this fix. You got us in. Now you get us out." 44 You make me sick, Tom. You're getting to be a regular old granny. I tell you there is no rat in the hole. Suppose Bill does appoint two honest deputies. There is still Bill, isn't there? What are two deputies going to do against Bill's orders? And Bill will do what I tell him. Oh, yes, he will. You needn't shake your head. I can manage Bill Wingo." 14 1 wish I could be sure of that," worried the judge. 4 You can be, old-timer, you can be. I'll manage Bill as per invoice, so you just bed your mind down and give it a rest. The bottle's in that cupboard, The New Broom 119 water's in the kettle, sugar's on the table, lemons in that box. Help yourself, make punch and be happy. Make enough for two, while you're about it. Your punch always did taste better than mine. I never could mix one to taste anything like. Lord knows how you do it. It's a gift. I hear you had a long run of luck at Crafty's last night." Et cetera, words with end and amen. Tip O'Gor- man was a skilful scoundrel. He knew precisely how far to go and he rarely employed a shovel. For even the dullest have a wit flash now and then. He soon had the jurist purring. To Billy Wingo that evening came Tip O'Gorman; a bluff, hearty, good-hearted Tip ; a Tip that told funny stories and was a good listener himself and laughed at the right place. You've heard it all before doubtless and know the method : " A chair for Mr. Dugan. He owns the stockyards. His pockets are full of green- backs. Let him win as much as he can and don't forget to tell Patsy to be waiting for him at the corner with the lead pipe when he goes out." The old, old game, you see. Shabby, moth-eaten through and through, fairly obvious; but it works most of the time. " That's fine whisky, Bill," observed Tip, cupping an affectionate hand ground his glass. u No, no, tempt me not, brother. I know when to stop, if I am old and sinful. A pleasant fire, a comfortable room, a hot drink, and a cold and winter's night. What more can a man want? " " What indeed? " said Billy politely. Inwardly he thought, " What the devil does he want?" 120 The Rider of Golden Bar You will perceive that the game was not running true to form. For it to be successful, the victim must not become a prey to low suspicion. "Sworn in your deputies yet? " Tip made casual inquiry. " Not yet. Storm might have kept 'em away." Then all was not lost. Tip began to feel a mental glow. He had been counting on the storm. "Have you appointed 'em?" he put the dread question. " Sure thing." ' "Who are they?" " Shotgun Shillman and Riley Tyler." " Oh, yes. Good men, both of 'em, but " Tip O'Gorman fell silent. He toyed with his glass. Billy Wingo regarded him slantwise. That u but." "Yes?" u But," continued Tip O'Gorman, " I know of bet- ter men." * Yeah? " Rising inflection and a cocked eyebrow. " Yeah." " For instance? " ; Johnson and Kenealy." Why Johnson and Kenealy? Why not Shillman and Riley?" " Shillman and Riley never have done anything for the party. Johnson and Kenealy have." ' What have Johnson and Kenealy done for the party?" " For one thing, they have always voted right." ' That is one thing, but not a large thing. Other u (( The New Broom 121 men have voted right too frequently. Some too fre- quently; if you know what I mean." " Politics, my dear fellow, is not child's play. We do what we must to win. But it doesn't pay to look a gift horse in the mouth too closely. He may bite." Tip O'Gorman stared at the new sheriff. The latter smiled a long, slow smile. " There are muzzles," said Bill Wingo. Tip dismissed this with a wave of his hand. " Too big a horse and too many teeth," said he. " Ah! " murmured Billy Wingo. " Come, come, Bill, you're no fool. You know what I'm after. You know what you owe the party. Johnson and Kenealy must be taken care of." " Must," observed Billy, "is the hardest word in the dictionary." " Sometimes it means the most," declared Tip O'Gorman. " This is one of those times." "Ah!" There it was again, that irritating monosyllable. For the first time Tip O'Gorman began to experience a doubt. " We expect you to appoint Johnson and Kenealy,'* he said bluntly. "And if I don't?" " Oh, you will - after you've thought it over." " I thought it over after Judge Driver came to me. And I decided not to. I prefer my own men." "Johnson and Kenealy will be your own men." " That is a question." Billy sat back in his chair and made a church roof and a steeple with the fingers of his two hands. He raised lazy gray eyes to Tip's 122 The Rider of Golden Bar face. " That is a question/ 1 he repeated. " They may be my men and then again " He ceased speak- ing, leaving the sentence unfinished. The church steeple became a gallows. " You see, I can't risk it," drawled Billy. Tip O'Gorman carefully set his glass down on the table. " You must," he remarked softly. "As I said before," murmured Billy, his drawl drawlier than ever, " must is a hard, hard word. But I'll tell you what I'll do, Tip," he continued in a louder, more cheerful tone. " You show me what ' musts ' in the statutes apply to the sheriff's office, and I'll obey every last one of 'em. When I took office, I made oath to obey and support the laws, you know." He smiled at Tip. The latter smiled back. u Lookit here, Bill," he said in his best and most fatherly fashion, " I like you " u I suppose that was why I was elected," inter- rupted Billy. " Partly," was the brazen reply. " But there were other reasons, of course. We needed a good man to win, a man that was on the level, an honest man a u Not a crooked man, or a dishonest man, or a pink man, or even a man with purple spots. So you elected me. I'll take it as a compliment. Go on." " A straight man doesn't throw down his friends," said Tip O'Gorman. " Sure not," declared Billy warmly. " He'd be a pup if he did. I agree with you, Tip. We won't fight over that." " You're throwing us down," insisted Tip. The New Broom 123 " Now, we're getting down to carpet tacks," said Billy. " But who are 'us'?" " The party." "The party?" " The party." " But the party and my friends are not necessarily the same thing." " We elected you." '' That doesn't make you my friends. Understand me, Tip, there are a lot of folks in the party I like and admire a lot of 'em. But the folks I like and admire don't come to me and give me orders, and my friends don't either. Not that you've been giving me any orders, Tip. You wouldn't do such a thing." " It's all right to ride me," said Tip, without losing for a minute his amiable smile, u but you might bet- ter leave off the spurs." " I ain't riding anything to-day," averred Billy. " There's the bowl. Dip you out another glassful." Tip O'Gorman did not accept the invitation. " I wish I could make you understand," he said slowly, crossing his legs and clasping both hands around a plump knee. " This is a serious matter, Bill." " Sure it is," asserted Billy. " You're serious. I'm serious. He, she or it is serious. Outside of that, it's a fine, large evening." " Lookit here, Bill, what's your game? " " Game? What game are you talking about? " "What do you want? What are you after, any- way?" Billy made swimming motions with his arms and 124 The Rider of Golden Bar hands. " Paddle out, paddle out. You're over my head and getting deeper." " Are you trying to give me the double-cross? " in- quired Tip. " Now why should I do a fool thing like that? " " I don't know. I'm asking." " What makes you think I'm giving you the double- cross?" " The first favor I ever asked of you the ap- pointment of these two men." " When I was elected, then, it wasn't intended I should have a free hand?" " Free hand? Of course, of course." Tip was be- ginning to find the atmosphere oppressive. He passed a handkerchief across his beaded brow. Observing which, Billy said affectionately, " It is hot in here. Shall I open a window? " " Nemmine a window," Tip said. " Think a shake, Bill. Is it wise?" "Wise?" " You know what I mean." " Not I," denied the cheerful Bill. " You can't buck the party." " There ain't no such word, but just for the sake of argument, why can't I?" " It has been done, but " ' Where are the snows of yesteryear, huh? " Tip nodded. " Something like that." " If I don't appoint your men and do appoint mine, what particular form of devilment would the party feel called upon to put on me? " " Devilment," grinned Tip. " You don't know us." The New Broom 125 " Backward and forward, sideways and from the bottom up. Don't you fool yourself I don't know you. I been looking over the situation a long time. It's been a liberal education." " So that's it," murmured Tip. " Driver told me, but I didn't believe him." " The judge sometimes tells the truth." Tip O'Gorman sighed. He thought he saw what he would have to do. And he didn't want to do it. It meant one more mouth to feed, and one more finger in the pie. " You understand, Bill," said he, " that it was al- ways intended you should have your share." " Nothing was ever said to me about any share," said Billy truthfully. u We occasionally prefer to leave something to the imagination." " It beats leaving it to the taxpayer," smiled Billy. " Sure, sure." " But my share you were speaking of, Tip," prompted Bill. " What is this share large, small or indifferent? " " That depends," replied O'Gorman cadgily. " On the weather, or some one's generosity? " Was there mirth or something sinister in the gray eyes? Tip O'Gorman couldn't be sure. But Lord, there was no cause for apprehension. He'd been mak- ing himself unnecessary worry. Bill Wingo was too easy-going and good-natured to hold out on the boys. He was just making a play for his legitimate share. That was only right. Not that Tip had intended in 126 The Rider of Golden Bar the beginning that Bill should have his legitimate share. These politicians! " You see, Bill, it's thisaway," said Tip. " Some years the party makes more than other years, and " " And the years it makes the most," insisted Bill, "are the years I make the most. Is that it? " u You get the general idea." " But not the general idea of what I get," persisted the strangely obtuse sheriff. " What is the minimum I can expect? " Tip did not relish being pinned down to cases in this fashion. He preferred generalities. " The minimum," repeated Tip. " And the maximum," suggested Bill. " I might as well know all the horrible details." " From three to five thousand dollars," said Tip, watching his vis-frvis closely. Said vis-a*vis looked disappointed. " Small change," he remarked coldly. " Who gets the other nickle?" ' Your salary is two thousand," Tip told him re- proachfully, " and three to five thousand above that makes five to seven thousand. What more do you want?" ;< Whatever's right," declared the amazing Mr. Wingo. " That's right what I told you." " What did the last sheriff get? " " 1 told you it varied." " I know you told me. Tell me again." Tip O'Gorman shifted his position in the chair. He was being baited. He realized it now. A slow anger The New Broom 127 rose in his breast. But an admixture of dismay in the anger kept it from boiling over. He continued to temporize. " Your slice will be worth while, well worth while. Leave it to us. You can trust me." "Can I? I wonder." "Meaning?" O' Gorman's face was cold as his heart was hot. " I wonder. I do it now and then. Habit, I sup- pose. No harm in it, is there? " " Lookit here, you don't doubt me, do you? " "Unhand me, Jack Dalton! I may be poor I may starve to death, but I will never be an old man's plaything. Better death than dishonor-rur-rur. Don't be so melodramatic, Tip. Who am I to doubt you? You? What a question! " The fingers with whkh Billy Wingo then proceeded to make a cigarette were steady and sure in every movement. Billy licked the length of the white roll, smoothed it down and twisted one end. Tip O'Gor- man did not know what to make of him. Or rather he thought he knew too well, which frequently amounts to the same thing. " You'd better trust me," rumbled Tip. " Be reasonable, Tip. You ask for trust and you give me a stone." "A stone?" " What else is three to five thousand bucks, I'd like to know. I'm no child, man. I've got my growth, and I've put away childish things, including all-day suckers." " You must take me for one." 128 The Rider of Golden Bar " Not you, not in a million years. But " Mr. Wingo paused and looked up at the ceiling. His lips moved. He muttered of figures and sums. Tip O'Gorman awaited his pleasure. What else was there to do? " I think between nine and ten thousand is nearer the correct amount for li'l me," Billy said at last. "What?" screeched Tip, fairly jarred off his bal- ance at last. Billy made his position plain. " Say ten thousand in round numbers." "Ten thousand devils!" 11 Not devils dollars." "You're crazy!" " It's the least you can do," insisted Billy. Tip O'Gorman made an odd noise in his throat. After making which, a dog would have bitten Mr. Wingo. Tip may have been a bad old man, but he was not a dog. He really dissembled his foamingly murderous rage very well indeed. " I'll have to see the rest of the boys," said Tip O'Gorman, and he actually smiled. " Why, no," contradicted Billy. " You won't. Why should you? Rafe and you are the dogs with the brass collars in Crocker County, and you wear more brass than Rafe, when you come right down to it. What you say usually goes without question." " I never said ten thousand for a sheriff before," protested Tip. '' There's nothing like establishing a precedent. Don't be hidebound. This is the newer generation, and advanced age, you know; one that's advanced by The New Broom 129 jumps, if you could only be brought to realize it." Tip held up an arresting hand. " Don't joke," he said. " I realize what the blessed age is doing, but doubling the ante this way is more than a jump it's a mighty wild leap." " It can be done," Billy said placidly. " What are impossibilities to-day become realities to-morrow. Q. E. D. P. D. Q." Tip O'Gorman raised plump hands to the level of his ears. " I didn't think when I proposed you for sheriff," he remarked earnestly, " that I was proposing a road agent too. Oh, you burglar! I do admire a hawg. Yes, sir. But what can a feller do? Ten thousand goes. About those deputies I don't sup- pose you'll have any objections, now that you've got what you want, to appointing Johnson and Kenealy? " " Oh, yes, indeed I have plenty. No Johnson and no Kenealy. Shillman and Tyler. Yes." " No. You've got to earn that ten thousand." " Bribery and corruption, Tip, is a serious crime." " Bosh ! You listen to me, young feller. We're buying you, body, soul and roll, with that ten thousand cases ! You've got to do as we say. Hells bells, what do you think you are?" " A stranger in a strange land. Damn strange, too. Tip, you're an old scoundrel! " Tip O'Gorman's hand halted half-way to his arm- pit. " No, no, Tip, not that," Billy warned him, keeping turned on the other man's stomach the gun that had suddenly appeared from nowhere. u Don't turn rusty in here. The carpet is new and so is the furniture. Go 130 The Rider of Golden Bar a li'l slow, or a li'l slower, whichever appeals to you.'* Tip locked his hands behind his head. " Be sensible, Bill," said he calmly. " You can't hope to buck us, if that's your idea. You can't." " Can't I? We'll see." u What can one man do? " contemptuously. " One-two-three. Three men. Three men can do a lot. Yep. I've seen it done." 44 Have you?" 44 I have. But I want to be fair to you, Tip. You'll notice I haven't removed your gun. I'll return mine where it came from behind the waistband of my pants. Now turn your wolf loose." But Tip O'Gorman merely smiled. u I thank you kindly," said he. " You mean well; but as you say, the carpet and the furniture are new. It would be a pity to spoil both them and the evening." " You mean we'll go outdoors then? " " We will not, but / will. You will stay here and, I hope, enjoy one good night's rest." " One, huh? Do I hear you say one? I do. I get your meaning, thank you. So good of you. Don't get up. I would a tale unfold. Did you ever hear the story of Benjy and the bear. No? This is it. Benjy was out hunting one day and it happened the bear was out hunting too. For the bear was hungry, and the bear saw Benjy before Benjy saw the bear. And after the dust had cleared away and all, the bear was bulgy and the bulge was Benjy." " Huh," snorted Tip O'Gorman, 44 what does that prove?" " It proves that it's better to be the bear than The New Broom 131 Benjy. At least, that's the way it looks to a man up a tree. I made up my mind some time ago that if I got tangled up in a situation like that I'd be the bear and not Benjy." Tip O'Gorman stared with an odd expression at Billy Wingo. ' You have changed," he remarked with conviction. "I wonder " " Give it a name," begged Billy, when Tip failed to complete the sentence. Mr. O'Gorman shook his bullet head. " No, I got other fish to fry." He got up heavily and began to pull on his over- coat. When he was gone, Billy Wingo crossed the room unhurriedly and barred the door. He threw a quick glance at the blankets nailed across the windows os- tensibly to keep out the drafts. All tight. No one could look in. " All right, boys," he said in a conversational tone. " You can come out now." The door of an inner room opened. Two men emerged. One was a long, lean citizen with a long, lean face barred by a heavy grizzled mustache. The other was shorter, of equally lean build, and consider- ably younger. The older man was Shotgun Shillman, the younger was Riley Tyler. In Riley's hand was a thin block of paper. A pencil stuck up behind his ear. " Did you get it all?" queried Billy, sitting down in his chair and hunching it close to the table. " Most of it," Riley replied. " All the impor- tant part, especially where he tried to buy you up. 132 The Rider of Golden Bar Gee, youVe got him now. Send him over the road any time." " But it's only Tip," said Billy, taking the block of paper from Riley and riffling through the scribbled leaves. " Arresting him would sure throw a heap scare into the others," Riley grinned. u And that is what I want to avoid," said Billy. u There's no use in scaring off the flock by downing one bird. We'll just file away Tip O'Gorman's remarks for future reference. We can afford to wait. Where's that Bible? I'll swear you boys in right away." CHAPTER NINE THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY IT was the next day that Arthur Rale, the district attorney, called on the new sheriff. He was a heavy- jowled, heavy-handed, heavy-bodied individual, with black hair, close-set eyes, and, what was curiously at variance with those heavy jowls, a long and pointed nose. Billy Wingo was expecting the district attorney to pay him a visit. For Shotgun Shillman had been told that Tip O'Gorman, Rafe Tuckleton and Judge Driver had spent the morning closeted with that gentleman. Billy Wingo was cleaning a Winchester when the district attorney knocked and entered. " Si'down, Arthur," invited Bill, indicating a chair with the barrel of the rifle. The district attorney returned the salutation gruffly. Billy smiled sweetly down at the rifle stock he was hand- rubbing. Mr. Rale stamped his feet, hung up his hat and coat and sat down heavily in the chair. Rest- ing both fists on his knees, he fixed Billy with a hard eye. " What's this I hear?" he wished to hear. " I dunno," said truthful William. " I hear you've appointed Shillman and Tyler depu- ties," Rale said accusingly. 134 The Rider of Golden Bar " Seems to me I have done something like that," admitted Billy. " You've got to cancel their appointments." " Got to?" " Got to." " I must be gettin' deaf," drawled Billy. " Seems like I heard you say got to." ".You heard me right," declared Rale, with a vi- cious snap of strong, white teeth. " You cancel those appointments and put in Johnson and Kenealy instead." " Everybody seems to want those two fellers," said Billy, wagging a puzzled head. " I don't understand it." The district attorney leaned forward. His broad, flat face was venomous in its expression. " Look here," he said harshly, " you like Hazel Walton, don't you? " Whang! In that confined space the crash of the gun was deafening. The district attorney, coughing in the smoke, picked up himself and his chair from the ground. He had fallen over backward at the shot, struck the back of his head and now his actions were purely mechanical. "Dazed you like, didn't it?" Billy queried in a soft voice. " You did hit pretty hard. Luck is with you to-day. I'll bet if you went down to Crafty's, you'd bust the bank and Crafty's heart." Rale did not take the palpable hint. He sat down again and looked uncertainly at Billy Wingo. He had courage, this district attorney, the species of courage, you understand, that to function properly must have The District Attorney 135 a shade the better of the break, that bets always on a sure thing and never on an uncertainty. Rale had been knocked off balance mentally and physically. He did the wrong thing. " You tried to murder me," he blurted out. Billy shook a solemn head. " You're mistaken. If Td tried to murder you, I'd have done it. Accidents will happen, though, even to the most careful fellers. Yeah. You were speaking of the Waltons, Arthur. I didn't quite catch what you said." He gazed expectantly at the district attorney. It seemed to the latter that the barrel of the rifle was in a line with the third button of his vest. Certainly the muzzle looked as large as a mine opening. Was the rifle cocked? Billy Wingo's large hand covered the breech. Billy moved the large hand a trifle. Yes, the rifle was cocked. The district attorney's eyes strayed downward. "At Billy's feet was a spent shell. " Look here," said Rale, " if that shot was an acci- dent, why did you flip in a fresh cartridge? " " How do you know I worked the lever ? " demanded Billy. " Because the spent shell's on the floor between your feet." " You've been reading those detective stories again. Arthur. It would look mighty bad for me if you were to pass out in here to-night. You're a big man and a heavy man. And the ground is frozen harder than rock. Bet I'd have to use a pick. I hope, Arthur, you're not thinking of doing anything to make me use a pick." Billy had uttered these sinister words in a mild 136 The Rider of Golden Bar and plaintive tone. The expression of his countenance was even milder and more plaintive. The district attorney found it difficult to believe that he had heard aright. Yet he had heard the report of the rifle aright. There could be no mistake about that. The district attorney sat rigidly erect. He cleared his throat. He wished his heart would stop pounding so hard. Odd, too, that it should seem to have moved out of its usual position to another that was already occupied by his windpipe. Breathing and speaking were rendered difficult. Quite so. He cleared his throat again. "Wingo," he said, " are you threatening me ? " " Threatening you? " Billy said in a shocked tone. " Certainly not. Wouldn't think of such a thing." The district attorney tried again. " Wingo, I don't know what to do with you. I " " Don't do anything," suggested Billy. " I'd feel better about it, too." "Huh?" 4 Yeah, I would. I've got a new job here, Arthur, and I guess it will keep me busy busy enough, any- way. And how am I going to swing it and do justice to the taxpayers, if well-meaning fellers like you are alia time experimentin' with me? " " Wingo," said the district attorney sternly, " stop this tomfoolery ! Instantly ! You have played the buffoon long enough." " All right," smiled Billy. " I'll be good." " That's better. Much better. Keep to that tone and we'll get along, we'll get along." Again the district attorney cleared his throat. The District Attorney 137 u Lord, Lord," thought Billy Wingo " what a fool- ish thing this man is ! " The district attorney picked up the thread of his discourse. ' We can't have you upsetting our plans in any way, Wingo. We can't have it, and we won't have it. I order you to immediately cancel the appointments of Shillman and Tyler and appoint instead Johnson and Kenealy. Do you understand? " 4 Yes," said Billy in a weary voice, u I understand. I understand perfectly. You can go now." " I'll go when I have your answer." ' Your mistake. You're going now." So saying, Billy arose, lowered the hammer of his rifle to the safety notch and laid the weapon on the table. Then he raised himself on tiptoe and stretched luxuriously. His arms came down slowly. He turned a surprised gaze upon the district attorney. " Haven't you started yet?" he said brisklv. " Come, come, get a-going." Even as he spoke he leaped with cat-like agility upon the district attorney where he sat in his chair and wrenched the right arm of that surprised gentle- man around behind his back. With his left hand, de- spite the struggles and protesting roars of the captive, he removed a six-shooter from a shoulder holster and a derringer from a vest pocket. " You must be scared of some one," observed Billy Wingo, as the derringer followed the six-shooter to a place on the table. " Arise, pushing your stomach ahead of you, and depart in peace." But the district attorney was averse to departing that way. " You will regret this outrage ! " he bel- 138 The Rider of Golden Bar lowed, his ripe cheeks and the veins in his neck swollen with passion. " So will you," said Billy, twisting the man's arm ever so slightly. " You are in a serious position. If you'd only realize it, and be reasonable, we'd all be happier. I don't want to break your arm unless I have to. Observe, Mr. Man, how easily I could do it." So saying, he pushed the district attorney's arm somewhat farther up his back. The district attorney groaned. Billy eased the pressure. The district at- torney began to curse. Billy, boosting him with his knee, assisted him toward the door. With his left hand Billy withdrew the bar from the staple, opened the door, swung his right foot and kicked the district attorney out into a snowdrift. After him Billy tossed his coat and cap. Then he closed the door and shoved the bar into place. " And that's that," said Billy Wingo. CHAPTER TEN A SHORT HORSE " You took your own time about coming/' grunted Rafe' Tuckleton. Dan Slike crossed his knees and stared at Rafe and Skinny Shindle. " I always take my own time," said he, in a voice as blank and expressionless as his ice- blue eyes. " Why hurry?" " Because you should have hurried," nagged Rafe. " Y'oughta come when I wrote you last summer. This Tom Walton has gone on living all fall, and here it is January and he ain't dead yet." " That's tough," sympathized Mr. Slike and wagged a belying foot. Skinny Shindle, looking somewhat worried, went to the door, opened it and looked out into the short hall. Satisfied that the breed cook was busy in the kitchen, he closed the door and returned to his chair. " It's worse'n that. Tom ain't the only li'l job I want you to attend to. There's the sheriff, Billy Wingo." " That will be extra." " Extra?" " You haven't any idea I'm gonna do two jobs for the price of one, have you? " " Well " 140 The Rider of Golden Bar " Well, nothin'. I ain't in the business for my health, you can gamble on that. If you're looking for charity, you're roping at the wrong horse. " " No, no, nothing like that," Rafe hastened to say. " I'll do whatever's right and fair. You can trust me." Dan Slike shook a slow head. An amused twinkle lightened those blank eyes. u Oh, yes," he said. " I'm almost sure I can trust you. Yeah. Almost." " What do you mean? " blustered Rafe Tuckleton. " Folks I talk to don't generally need any diction- ary," said Slike. " Huh," grunted Rafe, content to let it go at that. "Anyway, you'll be well paid." " I didn't come alia way from the Jornada just to hear you say I'd be well paid. Your i well paid ' and my l well paid ' might be two different things. Some- times you and I don't talk the same language." Rafe Tuckleton considered a moment. " Five hun- dred dollars apiece for Tom and the sheriff," said he, looking at Slike from beneath lowered eyebrows. 11 We'll bargain for 'em separately," said Slike. " One thousand for Tom, payable in advance." " No," denied Rafe. " Too much." "Aw right," assented Slike cheerfully. "I'll be pulling my freight for New Mexico to-morrow. What you gonna have for dinner? " " Let's talk it over. One thousand dollars is a lot of money for a li'l job like rubbing out Tom Walton." " If it's a li'l job, why don't you attend to it your- self?" A Short Horse 141 " Oh, I can't. Impossible. Why, man, consider my position/' u Sure, I understand. You'd rather live than have Tom Walton kill you. Don't know that I blame you, Rafe. You always were a sensible jasper." Slike's eyes dwelt on Rafe's face with tolerant con- tempt. The red color of Rafe's leathery cheeks was not entirely due to the heat of the cannon-ball stove. No. " I'm not a gunfighter," disclaimed Rafe quickly. " Never was. That's your job." " And I am a gunfighter. Always was. And it's my job. And I intend to get my price for my job. One thousand in advance, or the deal's off." " I'm not a rich man," protested Rafe. " I lack ready money. So does Mr. Shindle here. Say five hundred now and the rest in the spring." " I know how rich you are," said Slike. " And I can make a fair guess how you and Mr. Shindle stand for ready money. You can raise the thousand without too much trouble, I guess. Anyhow, it goes." " You drive a hard bargain." " A man in my business can't afford to be squeam- ish." As Slike spoke his eyes narrowed. "But " " No buts. You want Walton killed " " Sh-h ! Not so loud," cautioned Skinny Shindle. " Removed is a better word than killed, anyway." " Aw, hell," sneered Dan Slike, " you make me sick. I've got no use for a jigger that don't call a cow by its right name. I dunno the first thing about remov- ing. But I'll kill anybody you say. I ain't a bit par- 142 The Rider of Golden Bar ticular. Not a bit." Here Slike bent on Skinny Shindle the full measure of a most baleful regard. The strangely squeamish Shindle strove manfully to stare down the other man, but dropped his eyes within the minute. This appeared to please Mr. Slike. He smiled crookedly and turned his attention to Tuckleton. u Rafe," said he, " my time is money. I can't stand here higgle-hoggling with you from hell to breakfast. One thousand, or you get somebody else to do the job." " I suppose I'll have to do as you say," Rafe grum- bled. " And the same amount for the sheriff." " Not-a-tall," denied Slike. " Not a-tall. Do you think I'm gonna rub out a sheriff for a thousand cases? You must have mush for a brain! Killing a rancher is a short hoss, but a sheriff is another breed of cat. Besides, he's got two deputies, to say nothing of the feelings of the county. Killing this sheriff for you means I gotta leave the county on the jump. Do you think I'm gonna run the risk of being lynched for a measly thousand dollars? If you do, take another think. Take two of 'em! Me, I'll take two thousand for your man." 4 Two thousand dollars for simply shooting a sheriff?" " Again lemme remark that if the business was as simple as you say it is, you'd do it yourself. Two thousand in advance." " But that's three thousand in all." 1 You're a wonder at arithmetic. I make three thousand too." A Short Horse 143 " But look here, Dan, we " " I'm looking/' interrupted Slike, " and three thousand dollars is all I can see. You gotta expect to pay for your mistakes, Rafe. If you didn't want to have this sheriff hold office, what did you elect him for? You told me your political outfit was re- sponsible." " How could we tell he'd turn out this way? We took it for granted he'd do what the party wanted, and the first card out of the box he appoints his own deputies." " Good men with a gun? " " Both of 'em," Rafe nodded absently. " Wingo's no slouch himself," Shindle supplied with- out thinking. " And that's the kind of bunch you want me to go up against for a thousand dollars!" exclaimed Dan Slike. "You fellers sure have your nerve ! " Slike teetered his chair back on two legs and laughed loudly, but without cheer. Rafe and Skinny found themselves somewhat chilled by the sardonic merri- ment. They looked one upon the other. Slike caught the look and laughed anew. " You're a fine pair," he said loudly, " a fine pair. Letting a two-by-four sheriff run you. Ha-ha, it's a joke!" " You go slow, you hear! " directed Skinny Shindle. Dan Slike's eyes slid round to survey Skinny. " Me go slow?" he drawled, "Who'll make me? You? Not you or Rafe either. Wanna know why? Because I'm the best man in the room, that's why. Wanna argue the matter? " 144 The Rider of Golden Bar Apparently neither Skinny nor Rafe cared to argue. At least they made no audible reply to the challenge. Dan Slike nodded a satisfied head. " Now that's settled, let's go back to business. About that three thousand yes or no?" Skinny looked at Rafe. Rafe looked at Skinny. Skinny shook his head. Rafe nodded his. Dan Slike, missing nothing of the byplay, smiled delightedly. His thin lips curled into a crooked sneer. " There seems to be a difference of opinion," said Dan Slike. " Give it a name." " Three thousand is too much," averred Skinny Shindle. " You'll only have to pay half of it," said Rafe. u But this payment in advance I don't like it," objected Skinny Shindle. Dan Slike's boots came down from the table. They came down with a certain amount of speed, yet curi- ously enough they made not the slightest noise as soles and heels struck the floor. Dan Slike's chair creaked as his body turned ever so slightly sidewise. " Shindle," said he softly, " you ain't thinking I wouldn't keep my part of the bargain if I take your money, are you? " u No, oh, no," Skinny reassured him hastily. " Of course you would." 4 This being so," pursued Dan Slike, u what's the difference whether you pay me now or later?" ' Why, none," admitted Skinny, finding himself fair- ly cornered. " None whatever. I we will pay you what you ask." " Spoken like a li'l man," fleered Dan Slike, and A Short Horse 145 switched his gaze to Tuckleton's face. " Second the motion, Rafe? " " On one condition." " Let's have it?" " You finish both jobs within thirty days." " No, not thirty days, old-timer, nor yet forty-five. Sixty." " Thirty." " Sixty days from to-night and the three thousand dollars, half gold, half bills, in my pocket by noon to- morrow." " Oh, hell, all right! " Rafe cried, tossing up help- less hands. " Come around here to-morrow noon and get your money." Dan Slike nodded. " Guess I'll be going, Rafe No, nemmine dinner, I ain't hungry now." CHAPTER ELEVEN THE TRAPPERS " IT'S the women make half the trouble in the world, " mused young Riley Tyler, who had received the mitten from his girl of the period, the restaurant waitress, and was a misogynist in consequence. " You're wrong," said Shotgun Shillman. " They make all of it." "All?" " All. And not only that they make all the good, too. Yep, Riley, you can put down a bet there ain't a thing happens to a feller good, bad or indifferent that you won't find a woman at the bottom of it. A good man goes to hell or heaven it depends on the woman." " That's right, dead right," corroborated young Riley. 4 Those fatal blondes!" grinned Shotgun; for the waitress was decidedly of that type. 1 They're all deceivers," muttered Riley Tyler, red- dening to his ear tips. " Ain't it the truth ! " said Shotgun Shillman. " They can lie to you with -a straighter face than a govern- ment mule. Like that jail lady in the Bible who put the kybosh on a feller named Scissors by nailing his head to the kitchen floor with a railroad spike. Yeah, The Trappers 147 her. Hugging him she was ten minutes before using the hammer. Oh, that's their best bet; kiss you with one hand and cut your throat with the other/' " That's news," said Riley Tyler. " Where I come from the gent kisses with his mouth, and if he has to cut your throat he uses the butcher knife." " Did that hasher do all those things?" Shotgun asked instantly. Riley made believe not to hear. Shotgun chuckled. " Billy's coming back," observed the latter, gazing through the window. " Where did he go? " " Walton's, he said." " I thought he liked Hazel Walton." " He likes 'em all." Thus Riley, thinking of the scornful waitress who did not like him. ' 'Lo, Bill, remember to wipe your feet on the mat. Li'l paddies all cold?" " She's a-thawing," replied Billy Wingo, kicking the snow from his boots. " But I need a large, long, hot drink alia same. Where is that bottle? " When the bottle and the three glasses had been returned to their appointed place between the horse liniment and the spare handcuffs, Riley moved list- lessly to the front window and drummed on the pane. " Oh, the devil," Riley groaned. " Here's work for li'l boys. As if there wasn't enough to do in summer." " Good thing to-day's a chinook," remarked Shill- man, without interest. Billy joined Riley at the window. " Looks like Simon Reelfoot. It's Simon's horse, anyway. It is Simon. I can see his long nose." 148 The Rider of Golden Bar Riley squinted at the approaching man. " I wonder what he wants." " I thought maybe I'd ask him when he comes in," said Billy. " I would," observed Riley. " That'll show you're interested in your job. It'll please Simon, too. He'll think you've got his interests at heart. After that shall I kick him out, or will you let Shotgun bite him? " For Simon Reelfoot was not well thought of by the more decent portion of the community. Men that put "money out at high interest and are careless of their neighbors' property usually aren't. It was said of him that he still had the first nickel that he ever earned. Certainly he was not a generous person. Three women, at one time and another, had been unlucky enough to marry him. Each wife died within two years of her marriage murdered by her husband. Not in such a way, however, that the law could take its proper course and hang Simon by the neck till he was dead. The murders were done in a perfectly legal manner and all above-board overwork and undernourish- ment. The two in conjunction will kill anything that lives and breathes. So Simon, if not a murderer, was at least an accomplice before and after the fact. A cheerful creature, indeed. There were no children. Something of all that Simon was and stood for passed through Riley Wingo's mind as he stood with Riley at the window. " He always keeps his horses in good condition," said Billy. " He does the skunk! " acquiesced Riley. " Stop calling a honest citizen names," directed Shot- The Trappers 149 gun Shillman. " Mr. Reelfoot is an upright man. I don't believe he'd rob a child or steal the pennies off a dead baby's eyes. I don't believe he would if any one was looking." Sirpon Reelfoot rode up, tied his horse on the lee of the building he was always tender of his stock and entered. " Howdy," he said glumly. " Cold day." " If you'd wear something besides that relic of the days of '61 you wouldn't find it such a cold day," ob- served the straightforward Shotgun. At which allusion to his ratty old blue army over- coat Simon's upper lip lifted. It might almost be said that he snarled silently. " Feller as poor as I am can't afford to buy buffalo coats," he declared in the grumbling rumble so oddly at variance with his build. For he was a little clean- shaven man, this Simon Reelfoot, with a hatchet face ai d the watery peering eyes of the habitual drunkard. " Yeah," he grumbled, staring from one to another of the three officers with open disapproval. " I ain't got money to buy buffalo coats. I have to work to earn my living, I do. I ain't got time to sit on my hunkers around a hot stove come-day-go-day a-taking the county's money for doing nothin'." " Which will be just about all from you, Reelfoot," Billy Wingo suggested sharply. " Oh, you can't scare me," said Simon, shaking a lowering and dogged head. " I say what I think, and if folks don't like it they know what they can do." " Of course, Reelfoot," pursued Billy, with his most pleasant smile, " folks naturally know what they can 150 The Rider of Golden Bar do. But you don't guess now it gives a feller any pleasure to squash every spider, caterpillar, hoptoad or snail he runs across. And But I don't know that I ever saw any snails in this part of the county. Suppose now we hold it down to spiders, caterpillars and hoptoads. Yeah. Why kill 'em? Yeah again. Why put the kibosh on you, Mr. Reelfoot, just be- cause you make me think of a hoptoad? You may be a bad old man. I dunno that I care. But I don't like your company. Not a bit. You're a slimy old devil, and you never wash. Therefore let's hear what your business is so you can take it away with you in a hurry." So saying Billy sat down, cocked his feet up on the table and regarded Reelfoot gravely. Shillman and Tyler stood before the fireplace, their legs spread, their hands in the their pockets and their faces expression- less. Simon Reelfoot's upper lip lifted in the same sound- less snarl. " I'll go when I please," he began, and " " You're mistaken," contradicted Billy, taking out his watch and holding it open in the palm of his hand. " Not to give it too a coarse a name, you'll go when I please. Yep. If you haven't begun to state your offi- cial business with the sheriff within forty-five seconds, out you go, Mr. Reelfoot, out you go." ' You fellers are paid to see that the law is obeyed," growled Simon Reelfoot. " You can't throw me out." 1 'Round and 'round the mulberry bush,' " quoted Billy Wingo. u Reverse. Try the other way for a change. You're getting dizzy." The Trappers 151 "You make me sick, you fellers. Talk! Talk! Talk! That's all you do. Talk alia time. All right, I will see if you're able to do anything besides talk. Two of my cows have been shot and there's two or three strangers baching it in that old shack of Cayler's on Mule Creek. Cows are worth thirty dollars per right now, and I want you to find out if them fellers beefed my cattle." " Been over there yourself? " " Sure I have. They wouldn't lemme get inside the door. Threw down on me. Bad actors, them two lads." " I thought you said there were three," said Billy Wingo. " Two or three," snappily. " Suspicions don't count for much," said Billy. " You know that, Reelfoot. Have you any evidence agrinst these men?" " Sure I have," was the reply. " The bodies of my two cows and a plain track of blood and moccasins to within a mile of the cabin." " Did the trail stop there within a mile? " "Feller had a horse tied. He packed on the beef and rode himself. I trailed the horse to the corral back of the cabin." " Were you alone? " " My friend Jack Faber was with me. He can back up everything I say." "And you mean to tell me, Reelfoot, that you trailed this beef to the Cayler cabin and then allowed the men inside to get the drop on you and run you off ? " "They threw down first," Reelfoot insisted sul- 152 The Rider of Golden Bar lenly. u They got the drop. What could we do?" " I don't know," replied Billy Wingo dryly. u I wasn't there." " Perhaps," put in the irrepressible Riley Tyler, " the parties of the second part forgot their guns." " A gun ain't much good when the other feller's got the drop," Simon said sourly. " The trick is," observed Billy, his manner that of one stating a newly discovered fact, " the trick is, Reelfoot, to get the drop first." Reelfoot gaped at him. Then his jaws closed with a click. But they reopened immediately in violent speech. " What about my cows?" he squalled. "What you gonna do about them cattle? " " We can't unscramble any eggs for you, Reelfoot, not being magicians, but maybe we can dump the rus- tlers for you. How will you have them shot or half-shot? Now, son, you shut up, close your trap, swallow your tongue or something. Riley Tyler is the only one allowed to swear around me. Where do you want to cool off in here or out in a snowdrift? " Simon Reelfoot subsided into a chair. He produced a plug of tobacco from one capacious bootleg, a clasp- knife from the other, snicked open the claspknife and haggled off a generous chew. Billy nodded approvingly. " That's better. Shot- gun and I will be with you in two minutes." Simon Reelfoot glared out of the window. Billy Wingo, whose eyes, for all their casualness, had not strayed from Simon for a minute, had not overlooked the pucker of worry that had appeared between Simon's chin and straggly eyebrows at the mention of the two The Trappers 153 minutes. With folk like Simon it is always well to proceed with caution, to learn the real reason, not the apparent one at the bottom of every move. Quite so. Why was Simon worried? Simon's gaze returned from the world without. It skimmed across Billy Wingo, dodged around both Shill- man and Tyler, and dropped to the floor, where it fastened upon and clung to the nobbly tips of the Reel- foot boots. " I don't guess there's any tearing rush," he mumbled. Strangely enough or rather naturally enough, Billy experienced no surprise at the remark. " No hurry, huh? " he observed. " A minute ago you were in a hot sweat to have us do something right away quick, And now you ain't. What has changed you, Mr. Reelfoot? I ask to know." " I want the job done right," was the lame explana- tion. " If you hustle off too sudden you might forget something." "What do you think we're liable to forget?" queried Billy. " How do I know what? But I know it don't pay to go off half-cocked." Again Simon Reelfoot's eyes strayed to the window. When the eyes swiveled back to meet those of Billy Wingo, the pucker of worry had been wiped from Reelfoot's eyebrows. " No," he resumed, in a tone that was unmistakably relieved, " it don't pay to go off half-cocked." " No, it don't," concurred Billy, wondering greatly, both at the change in Simon's expression and the relief 154 The Rider of Golden Bar in his tone. Why? He desired to know why. And he made up his mind to know why. For among his other vices, Simon was friendly with Rafe Tuckleton and his precious gang. Billy Wingo, shoving cartridges through the loading- gate of a Winchester, slouched casually past the win- dow through which Simon was looking. He perceived, kicking his way through the snow, Mr. Tom Driver, the local Justice of the Peace. There was no one else in sight. " Lordy, how the snow dazzles your eyes," re- marked Billy, stepping back and squinting. " Is that Tom Driver coming here?" u Where?" inquired Simon Reelfoot, and looked through the wrong window. Yet when Simon had glanced through the other window a moment before, he must have seen the judge. Hum-m ! Billy Wingo continued thoughtfully to shove cartridges through the loading-gate. Entered the judge. u Good morning, gentlemen! " was the judicial greeting. The judicial eyes absorbed the sheriff's preparations. " You're not going any- where, are you, Bill?" he inquired, hooking a chair up to the table and sitting down after he had hung up his hat and coat behind the door. " Reelfoot's had two cows shot," explained Billy. " He thinks he knows who did it. Shotgun and I are going to see about it." u Only two cows," said the judge. " Then your presence isn't absolutely necessary. You can send Riley Tyler instead. I have a little business to go over with you, Bill a county matter. And " The Trappers 155 " Is it important?" " I think it is." " All right. Til stay. Riley, I guess you'd better go with Shotgun." It was pure chance that enabled Billy to catch the gleam of satisfaction in Reelfoot's eyes. He had just happened to be looking at the man. Satisfaction, yes. Why? Why was Simon glad chat he, Billy Wingo, was not going with him on the trail of the beef-killers? When Shotgun and Riley were gone away with Reel- foot, Billy looked across at the judge and nodded. " Fly at it," said he. Without haste the judge fished some papers from his pocket and opened them on the table. He did it awkwardly. His fingers might have been all thumbs. He seemed to have difficulty in finding the paper he wanted. Billy Wingo, his eyes drowsy-looking, watched silently. " What's it all about?" he asked curiously. " Jake Kilroe," replied Judge Driver. " "He's been selling liquor to the Indians." " He always has." " I know he has. And it's a disgrace to the com- munity. It's got to stop." Billy stared at the judge even more curiously. For this high and moral tone he did not understand at all. It was not like the judge. It was not in the least like the judge. No, not at all. " Stopping liquor-selling to the war-whoops is none of my job," pointed out Billy Wingo, " the man you want to see is Henry Black, the United States Marshal 156 The Rider of Golden Bar at Hillsville. Besides, what have you got to do with it, anyway? You're not a Federal judge? " " But the Federal authorities have ordered me to cooperate with them," the judge said smoothly. u Which one asked you? " probed Billy Wingo. " The second deputy." " Slim Chalmers, huh? When did you see Slim Chalmers?" " Day before yesterday. 1 ' "Here?" " No, over at Hillsville." u I didn't know you'd been out of town," Billy Wingo burrowed along. " Just got back this morning." " No trouble getting through?" " Not a bit. This chinook has thawed the drifts." " Did you go by stage? " " No, I rode." The judge was answering these apparently most unnecessary questions without a quiver or trace of an- noyance. Billy made another cast. u Did you ride your gray horse? " " No, the black." " I hope you wore a coat." The gravity of Billy's tone could not have been bettered. "An overcoat?" smiled Judge Driver. "Nat- urally." 4 That's good, that's good. I like to see you looking after your health thisaway. You'd be a valuable citi- zen to lose, Judge. I dunno what we'd do without you. I don't indeed." What had gone before had been bad enough in all The Trappers 157 conscience. But this was even worse. Yet the judge took no offense. He merely smiled blandly upon Billy Wingo and proffered the latter gentleman his cigar case. Billy declined with thanks. Whereupon the judge drew a long and very black cigar from the case and bit off the end. " It's funny I didn't meet you in Hillsville," mused Billy, turning his head as if to look at the stove but in reality looking at a mirror hanging on the wall beside the stove that showed on its face an excellent reflection of Judge Driver's features. As he expected, the judge gave him a quick sharp glance, but what he had not expected was the demoniac expression of hatred that flashed across the judge's face as summer lightning flashes across the face of a dark cloud. Eilly Wingo turned a slow head. His eyes met those of the judge squarely. Gone was the expression of hatred. In its place was one of courteous regret, regret that he had been so unfortunate as to miss his friend Sheriff Wingo in Hillsville. Billy nodded indifferently. " That's all right. I wasn't in Hillsville. My mistake. Sorry." The judge stared in frowning puzzlement. It was at this juncture that the door opened and Skinny Shindle entered. He greeted the two men surl- ily and laid a note on the desk in front of Billy. " I stopped at Walton's on my way back from Hills- ville," said Shindle, " and Tom'$ niece gimme this. She said I was to be sure and give it to you soon as I could. Seemed worried like, I should say." 158 The Rider of Golden Bar " When did she give you the note," Billy inquired casually. " When I stopped there for a drink. I was only there about five minutes." 14 When was that?" " Oh, round half-past two." " And you came straight here ? " " Sure I did. You don't think I was gonna stop any- where a day like this, do you? " Without another word Shindle pulled his fur cap forward, turned and walked out. He closed the door with a slam that shook the building. Billy Wingo opened the note. DEAR BILLY: Please come out here as soon as you can. Come to- night without fail. I need you. It was signed with Hazel Walton's full name. Billy folded the note carefully. He did not look directly at the judge. He looked at him by way of the mirror. He was not unduly astonished to perceive that the judge was watching him like the proverbial hawk. Billy unfolded the note, read it again, then refolded it. He started to put it into a vest pocket, though bet- ter of it, balled it into a crumple and tossed it into the cardboard box that served for a waste-paper basket. He got to his feet, pulled out his watch and glanced at the time. " Four-thirty-two," he muttered, apparently obli- vious to the judge's presence. " I'll have to hurry." He crossed the room to an open door giving into one of the inner rooms. Passing through the door- The Trappers 159 way, he pushed the door partly to behind him. Turn- ing sharply to the left he sat down on a cot that creaked. The foot of the cot butted against the jamb on which the door was hung. Billy threw himself sidewise and applied his eye to the crack between the door and the jamb. His feet at the end of the cot were busy the while, gently kicking the wall and iron- work of the cot. Any one hearing the noise would have been reasonably assured that Billy Wingo was employed in God knows what, at a distance from the door of at least a cot length. What he might be doing did not matter. The point was to give the judge the impression that he was not close to the doorway. Evidently the judge was thus impressed. Billy saw him lean forward, pluck the wadded-up note from the wastebasket and dive noiselessly across the room to the stove. Without a sound the judge opened the stove door and dropped the letter on the top of the blazing wood. Closing the door as noiselessly as he had opened it, the judge returned to his chair, sat down and crossed one knee over the other. His expression was that of the cat that has just eaten the canary. Billy could almost see him licking his demure chops. Billy returned to the office. He was carrying a box of cartridges and an extra six-shooter. His reg- ular six-shooter, with its holster and belt, hung on the wall behind the table. "About Jake Kilroe now," said Billy, sitting down at the table and snicking open the box of cartridges, " about Jake Kilroe what does the marshal want me to do?" i6o The Rider of Golden Bar u Get evidence against him," was the smooth reply. " Enough to convict him, of course." " Of course. Not enough to convict him would help us very little. Yeah. Any suggestions, Judge? " " What kind of suggestions?" the judge inquired with just a trace of impatience. " How I'm to start in what do you guess? I don't know much about Jake, y'understand. For in- stance, where does Jake get his liquor in the first place?" " How should I know?" " I dunno. Thought maybe you might. Judges are supposed to know a lot. But if you don't, you don't, that's all." Judge Driver sat up a trifle straighter in his chair. He looked at Billy with some suspicion. It could not be humanly possible that Billy was joking with him, yet u I guess I'd better start in this afternoon," con- tinued Billy briskly. u There's nothing like a quick start. And the marshal would like it too. Suppose you and I, Judge, go down to Jake's and see what we can see." " I thought you were going somewhere else," de- murred Judge Driver. " What makes you think so? " 4 That note You said you had to go some place in a hurry." " Did I? Well, I am. I'm going down to Jake Kilroe's, and you're going with me, huh?" " Look here," said the judge, the light of despera- tion in his eyes, " you don't have to go down to Kil- The Trappers 161 roe's now. That can wait. The marshal ain't in such a fright of a hurry as all that. Go on and do what- ever you have to do. I didn't mean I don't want this to interfere with your personal business, and I'm sure the marshal wouldn't. He'll understand. I know he will. You go on and do whatever you have to do Bill." " I will," murmured Billy. " I will. Where are you going, Judge? " " Oh, I guess I'll be drifting along, Bill," smiled the judge, half-turning on his way to the door. " You don't need me any longer." " Yes, I do too," Billy declared fretfully. " You come on back and set down. I've got something here I want to read you." Involuntarily the judge's eyes strayed to the waste- basket. He came back and sat down. On the table between the extra six-shooter that Billy had finished loading and the box of cartridges was a small leather-bound book. Billy picked up this book and turned to the index. He ran his finger down the page till he came to that which he sought. " 'Morality, rules of, where consonant with those of law,' " he read aloud, and turned back to page twenty-eight. Judge Driver stared at Billy Wingo in some amaze- ment. What on earth was the sheriff driving at. Rules of morality? Well! " This book," said Billy, glancing across at the judge, " is a copy of the grounds and maxims of the English laws, by William Noy, of Lincoln's Inn, At- 162 The Rider of Golden Bar torney General, and a member of the Privy Council to King Charles the First." 41 What in God's name," demanded the now thor- oughly amazed judge, u has that to do with me? " u I want to read you something," persisted Billy. " You know that our laws were practically taken from the English laws. Our grounds and maxims are the same as theirs. What's good law with them is good law with us, and vice versa. You're a judge. You know that as well as I do. Don't you?" The judge nodded. " I suppose so." " It says here," resumed Billy Wingo, " in section thirty-three under Moral Rules, that the ' law f avoreth works of charity, right and truth, and abhorreth fraud, covin, and incertainties which obscure the truth; con- trarities, delays, unnecessary circumstances, and such like. Deceit and fraud should be remedied on all occasions.' How about it? Don't you agree with Mr. William Noy?" " He's right; but there's nothing new about it. I knew it already." " Then you'll understand me, perhaps, when I tell you that I intend to get to the bottom of everything that has gone on here this afternoon." "What do you mean?" " I mean that there has been more ' fraud, covin, and incertainties which obscure the truth ' scattered round in this room to-day than by right there should have been. I don't mind a little. Human beings are odd numbers, anyway, You've got to take all that into consideration." " I don't understand you." The Trappers 163 " Then, too," pursued the unheeding Billy, " 'con- trarities, delays, unnecessary circumstances, and such like/ I despise. They give me a bad taste in my mouth. Don't they you? " " They would any one," acquiesced the judge, and made to rise. " Well, now you've read me what you wanted to, I won't keep you any longer. I know you must be in a hurry to get away. We'll let the Kilroe business wait over a few days." " Sit down, Judge," Billy Wingo murmured softly, his hand resting as if by chance on the butt of the six- shooter lying on the table. " Sit down, do." The judge hesitated. Then with the well-known hollow laugh, he sat down. He looked at Billy Wingo. The latter looked at him. in silence for a space. " Judge," he remarked suddenly, " deceit and fraud should K remedied on all occasions. Tell me why you put that letter in the fire? " The judge continued to sit perfectly still. It might be said that he was frozen to his chair. Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, his right hand began to steal upward under the tail of his coat. "I wouldn't, Judge," continued Billy, "I just wouldn't if I were you." The judge's hand hung straight by his side. " You're getting in pretty deep, Bill," he observed with a cold smile. "But not as deep as you are already," said Billy Wingo, with an ven colder smile. ' You haven't answered my question yet about the burning of the letter. Why, Judge, why?" " Give it any name you like," replied the jurist 164 The Rider of Golden Bar carelessly. " I dont feel like answering any more questions. " " Yet a li'l while back you didn't mind answering any questions I felt like asking. Was it to gain time, Judge to gain time till Skinny Shindle came in and did his part with the note from Miss Walton? Was it, Judge, was it? Dumb, huh? Aw right, perhaps you'd rather tell me why Simon Reelfoot acted about the same way, except Simon was special careful to make us mad besides mad when it wasn't necessary to make us mad if Simon was playing a straight game, but necessary enough if Simon wanted to gain more time. Yeah, Simon sure beat around the bush time and again before he came to the point. I expect you were delayed getting here, huh, Judge? Simon kept looking out of the window alia time, I remember." Billy Wingo felt silent and contemplated the judge. The latter stared back, his face impassive. " Be advised," said the judge suddenly. " You can't buck us alone. You shoiud know that." " I should maybe," returned Billy Wingo. " But I feel like taking a gamble with you. So instead of. going to Kilroe's> we'll do what the letter said and go out to Walton's to-day." The judge lifted his eyebrows. "We?" ;t We," confirmed Billy calmly. " You're going with me." " No," said the judge. " Yes," insisted Billy Wingo. " And what's more, I'll lend you a suit of my clothes and my white hat and my red-and-white pinto. Which there ain't an- other paint pony colored like mine in this county; The Trappers 165 and just to make it a fair deal, I'll wear your buffalo coat and your fur cap, and I'll ride one of your horses, that long-legged gray, I guess, will be all right." The judge's face wore a curiously mottled pallor that gave it the hue of a dead fish's belly. " Are you insane?" he gasped. " Not me," denied Billy Wingo. " It's like I said. I'm gambling with you. I guess we understand each other, Judge. Ain't it luck, you and I being about of a size? Dressed up in my clothes with that white hat and all, you'd have to excuse anybody for mistaking you for me. Ca-a-areful, Judge, careful. Don't do anything we would be sorry for. And don't take it so to heart; perhaps he'll miss you." For a space he considered the judge, then he said: " I guess we're ready for Riley, now." Despite his professional calm the judge almost bounced out of his chair. " Riley! Where " " In the kitchen with the door open," explained Billy. " He didn't go with Shotgun and Reelfoot a-tall that is, not far. Only round the house to the back door. Reelfoot wasn't completely successful in sep- arating me from my deputies. You didn't catch me whispering in Riley's ear while he was getting ready, did you? I thought maybe you wouldn't. Your back was turned. Moral: Never turn your back when there's a mirror behind you. Riley, you'd better come in now." Whereupon there was a noise of bootheels, and Riley entered and smiled cheerfully upon the discomfited judge. " Howdy, your honor," said Riley Tyler. 166 The Rider of Golden Bar The judge made no acknowledgment of the greet- ing. He continued to gaze before him with a set and stony face. " Riley," said Billy Wingo, without, however, re- moving his eyes from the judge, " I guess we'll need another witness. I wonder if you could get hold of Guerilla Melody." Riley nodded and went out. " And that's that," said Billy Wingo, smiling. The judge's hands gripped the arms of the chair. " You know that the man Melody is an enemy of mine," he said in a shaken voice. " I know that he is an honest man," returned Billy Wingo. " I won't go," the judge declared feebly. " You said that before," said Billy Wingo, in no wise moved. ' You'll go all right. Yes, indeedy. Do you wanna know why? I'll tell you. You see, Judge, I know what I'm up against I know that the only barrier that stands between me and the grave- yard is the lead in this gun. I like life. I enjoy it. Besides, I'm too young to die and too sinful and all that. Therefore it's my business to see I ain't cut off in the flower of my youth, et cetera. You're consid- erably older than me, Judge, considerably. The gray is in your hair like frost on a punkin, and the devil has drawn two mighty mean lines down from your nose to the corners of your mouth, and the crows have messed up your eye-corners too, for that matter, and may the Lord have mercy on your soul, you miserable sinner, because I won't if you don't do exactly what The Trappers 167 I tell you to do. It's my life or yours, and it's not gonna be mine." " Baby talk," said the judge, but there was no con- viction in his tone. " You think so ? Aw right, let it go at that. Here's the rest of the baby talk: The first false move you start to make between now and the time I'm through with you, you get it." " You wouldn't dare !" "Wouldn't I? Call me and see. No trouble to show goods." The judge hesitated. It was obvious that he was of two minds. He chose the safer course for the present. " There is a law in this country " he began. Billy Wingo leaned forward, his chin jutting out. His eyes were unpleasantly cold. They matched his voice when he spoke. " Don't talk to me of the law," he said. u lt's you and your friends that have made the law in Crocker County a spectacle for decent men. Law! You've dragged the statutes in the mud till you can't tell 'em apart from the turnips underground. Law! You've prostituted your office for a little filthy money here, there and everywhere, till it's a wonder you're able to live with yourself. How do you do it? Don't you ever get tired of your own stink, you polecat?" This was too much. The judge was, after all, a human being. He had his pride, such as it was, and courage of a kind. He threw himself sidewise, and at the same time his right hand flipped up under his coat tail, flipped up and flipped out. 168 The Rider of Golden Bar There was a flash and a roar and a spirtle of smoke. The judge's six-shooter was wrenched from his fingers and sent spinning across the room. The judge re- mained upon the floor. There was no feeling in his right hand. But his right arm felt as if it had been struck with a spike-maul. The acrid smoke rose slowly toward the ceiling. " You can get up, Judge, " Billy Wingo said calmly. The judge rose slowly and collapsed into the chair he had so abruptly vacated. He held his right hand be- fore his face and waggled it. Stupidly he looked at it. The flesh of the trigger finger was slightly torn. It bled a little. " The bullet didn't touch you," said Billy. " The trigger guard did that when the gun was twiddled out of your hand. The lead hit the frame in front of the cylinder. Wait, I'll show you." He crossed the room to where the judge's six-shooter lay, picked it up and brought it to the judge for his inspection. " See how I trust you," said Billy sardonically, hold- ing up the judge's six-shooter within ten inches of the judge's eyes. " You could almost grab this gun out of my hand if you felt like it. I really dunno but what I hope you'll feel like it." But the judge did not feel like it. He perceived without difficulty the gray splotch on the frame of the six-shooter that marked the spot where Billy Wingo's lead had struck, and he felt absolutely no inclination to gamble further with fate. Not he. No ! Billy tucked the judge's six-shooter into his waist- band and ran a hand over and under the jurist's outer clothing. The Trappers 169 " You might be carrying a derringer or something," he murmured in apology. But he found no other weapon, and he returned to his seat to await the arrival of Riley Tyler and Guerilla Melody. CHAPTER TWELVE THE TRAP GUERILLA MELODY regarded the judge without ex- pression. " Huh," he grunted. " Huh." The judge did not look at him. He had cheated Melody in a cattle deal the previous year and had since found himself unable to look Melody in the eye. Some villains are like that. They are usually of the cheaper variety. " It's good and dark now," observed Billy Wingo, " and the moon will rise in another hour. We don't want it to be too high when we strike the Walton ranch. Why the smile, Judge ? Oh, I know. You think we'll be seen by one of your friends when we're leaving, and he'll get to the ranch ahead of us. I doubt it, Judge. You know we ain't going by way of Main Street. No, we're going out back of the corral. The cotton- woods grow right up close to the back of the corral, and if we lead our horses and hug the posts, there ain't much chance of anybody seeing us. No. Come along, Judge, lessee how my clothes fit you." Within the quarter-hour they rode out of a belt of cottonwoods into the Hillsville trail, three wooden- faced men and the wretched judge. The latter rode in front, with head bowed on hunched shoulders. Where the snow permitted they trotted, but most The Trap 171 of the time they were forced to walk their horses. Four times before they reached the draw leading to the Walton ranch they floundered through drifts that powdered the horse's shoulders. At the mouth of the draw the trail to Walton's was clotted with the tracks of a few ridden horses. "I guess," remarked Billy Wingo, " that Skinny Shindle came this way all right when he brought that note from Walton's." The judge shivered, but not with cold. He was very miserable and looked it. The moon lifted an inquiring face over the rim of the neighboring ridge and threw their shadows, thin and long, across the green-white snow. " We turn here toward Walton's Judge," suggested Billy, when the jurist continued to ride straight ahead. The judge pulled up. " I'm not going to Walton's ! " he cried aloud. " I'm not going, I tell you! You can't make me! You can't." His voice broke at the last word. He threw his arms aloft in a wild gesture. The features of the face he turned toward Billy were contorted with emotion. He gibbered and mowed at them in the moon-light. He looked like an inmate of Bedlam. He was cer- tainly in a bad way, was Judge Driver. Suddenly he lost his head. He clapped heels to his horse's flanks in an effort to escape. But both Billy Wingo and Riley Tyler had been waiting for precisely such a move ever since leaving Golden Bar. Two ropes shot out simultaneously. One fastened on the red-and-white pinto's neck, the other settled round the 172 The Rider of Golden Bar Judge's shoulders. The paint pony stopped abruptly. The judge flew backward from the saddle and hit the snow on the back of his neck. The three friends dismounted and gathered around the judge. Riley loosened his rope. The judge lay still and gasped and crowed. The wind had been con- siderably knocked out of him. When he sat up, he was promptly sick, very sick. The paroxysm shook him from head to heels. It was half an hour before he was able to stand on his feet without support. The three boosted him into the saddle, mounted their own horses and proceeded along the draw. Whenever the judge made as if to check his horse, which he did more than once, Billy Wingo would crowd his horse forward and kick the pinto. Their progress may be said to have been fairly regular. A mile from the ranch house they climbed the shelv- ing side of the draw and rode across the flat to where a straggling growth of pine and spruce made a black, pear-shaped blot along the smooth white slope of a saddle-backed hill. The tail of this evergreen planta- tion ran out across the flat from the base of the hill almost to the edge of the draw they had just quitted. A tall spruce, towering high above his fellows, formed the tip, as it were, of the stem of the pear. Beyond and below this spruce, where the draw met lower ground and lost its identity as a draw, was the Walton ranch house. On the flat the evergreens barred the four riders from the eyes of any one watching from the house. The four men reached the trees, rode in among The Trap 173 them. Three of them dismounted and tied their horses. The fourth remained in the saddle. Said Billy Wingo to the fourth: " Get down." The judge got down. Swiftly his hands were tied behind his back, and his eyes were thoroughly blind- folded with his own silk handkerchief. " Now, boys," said Billy, lowering his voice, " I guess we know what to do. You, Judge, won't have to say anything, but if anybody else thinks he has to say anything, he's got to do it in a whisper, and a skinny whisper at that. Let's go." As Billy uttered the last low words Guerilla Melody seized the judge's right arm and forced him into mo- tion. With Riley Tyler leading the judge's mount, the three men scuffled in among the trees on the back trail. Billy Wingo stood silently in his tracks until the trio were out of earshot, then he padded to the spruce and halted behind it. He removed his overcoat. From a voluminous pocket he took what appeared to be a roll of cloth. He shook out the roll and discovered the common or garden variety of cotton nightshirt, size fifty. " If whoever's in the house can pick me out from the snow after I'm wearing this, I'll give his eyes credit," he muttered, pulling on the garment in question over his head. He buttoned the nightshirt with meticulous care, fished a washed flour sack from a hip pocket and pulled it over his head. A minute or two later he was joined by Riley Tyler. 174 The Rider of Golden Bar " If I didn't know it was you," whispered Riley in a delighted hiss, " I'd be scared out of a year's growth. Those eyeholes are plumb gashly." " I expect," said Billy grimly. " Get on your outfit. I guess you ain't needed, but we can't afford to take any chances." Riley Tyler threw off his blanket capote, dragged from an inner pocket a disguise similar to the sheriff's and hurriedly put it on. " Don't come till you see the signal," cautioned Billy, " and if you hear any shots before I give the signal, stay right here where the cover's good and drop any- body you see running away. Y'understand? " 11 You bet." " Judge swallow it all right? " " Down to the pole. He thinks we're all three with him." Billy nodded. " Better move along the draw about twenty yards," was his parting order. " You can't see the side the cedars are on from here." Boldly, without any attempt at concealment, he walked straight to the edge of the draw. Below him barely fifty yards distant were the snow-covered build- ings that were the Walton ranch house, the bunk house and the blacksmith shop. He could not see the corrals. They lay beyond the crowding cottonwoods growing beside the little stream that supplied the ranch house with water. He half slid, half walked down the side of the draw and headed straight for the ranch house. He could not see lamplight shining through any of the windows. But there was a faint glow at the farthest of the The Trap 175 windows in the side of the house. This window he knew was one of three lighting the front room, a room that ran clear across the house. This side of the house was clear of young trees and bushes. But on the other side of the house, the north side, Hazel had planted young cedars to serve as a windbreak. These cedars grew within a yard of the house. Without any fear of being discovered, so confident was he that it would be impossible to see him against the white background, he approached the blacksmith shop, slid between it and the empty bunk house and came to the right angle end of the kitchen. His gun was out, be it known, but he held it behind his back. He wanted no touch of blackness to mar the hue of his costume. At the corner of the kitchen he dropped on his knees and one hand. Here behind the windbreak the snow was no more than two or three inches deep, and he crawled along the side of the house toward the faintly glowing window that was his goal, at walking speed. Crouched beneath the window he laid his ear close to the window sill and listened. For a space he heard nothing, then feet shuffled across the floor and there was the " chuck " of a log being thrown on the fire. Then the shuffle of feet again. Silence. Inch by inch Billy raised a slow head above the window sill. When his eyes were level with the lower crosspiece of the sash, he paused. For a long time he could see nothing within the room but the fire in the ruddy jaws of the fireplace with its attendant pile of logs, and a big chair over which had been thrown a 176 The Rider of Golden Bar buffalo robe. Then after a time he saw, beyond the chair, the boot soles of a man lying on the floor. The body of the man lay in the shadow cast by the big chair. There was something about those boot soles that told Billy that the man was dead. " I figured it would be this way," Billy told himself. " I didn't see how else it could be. Damn their souls ! They don't stop at anything! " He continued to stare unblinkingly into the room and after a time he made out the dim lines of another man's figure sitting on the table beside one of the front windows. The head of this other man was turned away from Billy. He was watching the draw through the front window. But there was no life in the draw yet. Billy waited. He continued to wait. His feet be- gan to get cold. They gradually grew numb. The hand that held the six-shooter began to have a fellow feeling, or lack of it rather, with the feet. He changed hands and stuffed the chilled hand under his nightshirt into his armpit. A cramp seized his left knee. He straightened it gingerly and ironed out the cramp witl\ the back of his gun hand. The cold crept up both legs. When it reached his middle a cramp fell hammer-and-tongs upon his right knee, calf and sole of his foot. He straightened that leg and dealt with it like a brother. S-s-suschloop ! A section of snow several yards square slid off the roof and avalanched upon him. At the sound the figure at the window turned as if shot. Billy, by a supreme effort of will, stifled the impulse to The Trap 177 dodge and held his body motionless. He was covered with snow. Snow was down the back of his neck as well as on the window sill in front of his mouth. To all intents and purposes and to any eye he was a pile of snow fallen from the roof. Swiftly the figure on the table walked across the room to Billy's window and looked out. Billy remained with considerable less movement than the proverbial mouse. The snow, while it covered his head, did not completely conceal his forehead and eyes. But Billy reckoned on the reflection of the firelight on the window-pane to blind somewhat the man within. For a few seconds the man stood looking out the window over Billy's head. The pile of snow he gave but the most passing of glances. But to the frozen nucleus of the snow pile it seemed that the few seconds were hours and that the snow pile was subjected to the most searching crutiny. The man returned to his post on the table by the front window, and Billy breathed again. He had been unable to distinguish the man's features. The light from the fire was not strong enough. After another century of waiting Billy perceived that the fire was again burning low. There was a small spurt of sparks as the remnant of the log fell apart. The man slipped from the table and strode across the room to the pile of logs and sticks beside the fireplace. This was the moment for which Billy Wingo had been waiting. He scrambled on hands and knees to the front corner of the ranch house. Whipping a box of matches from a hip pocket, he lit one in a cupped hand. 178 The Rider of Golden Bar He let the match burn his fingers before flipping it down. He stood at gaze, straining his eyes down the draw toward the Hillsville trail. Even as he looked a dark object detached itself from some bushes several hundred yards distant and moved toward the house. Billy returned to his post at the window. Slowly he raised his head to the level of the lower crosspiece of the sash. When his eyes again became accustomed to the darkness of the room he saw that the man was no longer near the fireplace. He was standing at the front window, staring down the trail. On account of the soft snow Billy did not hear the approaching horse until it had almost reached the ranch house door. When the horse stopped the man inside the ranch house moved quietly to the door and stood at one side of it. His hand moved to his leg and came away. The rider dismounted. Billy heard him rattle the latch of the door. " Don't shoot! " he heard him say in an agonized whisper. " Don't shoot, for Gawd's sake! " Billy, watching at the window, saw the man in the room fling open the door. For an instant the tall and hatless form of Judge Driver showed black against the expanse of snow framed in the doorway. Again came the plea for mercy a whisper no longer, but a wild cry of " Don't shoot! Don't shoot! It's me! Driver!" as the judge, realizing only too well that any such outcry was tantamount to a confession of guilt, plunged into the room. Obviously his purpose was to escape the fire of the avenging rifles that he had every reason to believe were somewhere in the brush The Trap 179 along the draw. He was acting precisely as Billy had reckoned he would act, and there was not the slightest danger of Billy or any of his men shooting him. But a very real danger lay behind the ranch house door. The judge's only chance lay in convincing the man behind the door in time. He convinced him. The man yanked him roughly into the room and slammed the door shut. " Thank Gawd ! Thank Gawd ! " babbled the judge, sinking back against the door, " I thought you'd shoot me I " " I damn near did," remarked the man, whose voice Billy now recognized as that of a late arrival in town, named Slike. " If you hadn't jerked your hat off so's I could see your face, I would have. When will Wingo get here, and didja get him to come by himself all right? Huh? Why don't you answer? Whatsa matter ? Isn't he coming or what ? By Gawd, you're wearing his clothes! Where is he?" " He's here ! " gurgled the judge. " Where? " Slike's voice was a terrible snarl. " Here up on the flat." Slike promptly seized the judge by the throat. " Then you led him here. What are you trying to do double-cross me ? " " No, no ! " gulped the judge, pulling at the other's wrists. " I couldn't help it ! He forced me to come I " "Then you did lead him here, damn your soul I You white-livered cur, do you think I'm gonna hang on your account? What did you tell him? Answer me, damn you! " To the accompaniment of a string of most ferocious i8o The Rider of Golden Bar oaths, Slike shook the judge as the terrier shakes the rat. The judge fought back as best he could. But he was no match for this man of violence. Tiring at last, Slike flung him on the floor and kicked him. "I'd oughta stomp you to death 1" he squalled. " What did you tell him ? " " Nothing! Nothing! " cried the judge. " He must have guessed it! " Dan Slike laughed. It was a laugh to make you flinch away. The hair at the base of Billy Wingo's neck lifted like the hackles of a fighting dog. " Guessed it!" yelped Slike. " Guessed it! Aw right, let it go at that. How far away is he? " But the judge had his cue by now. " He's two or three miles back," he said faintly. " If you start now you can get away." " You know damn well there's too much snow," snapped Slike. " How many's he got with him? " One two." Slike kicked the judge in the short ribs. " How many? Tell the truth!" " Tut-two." 4 Three in all, huh? and you and me are two say one man and a half, anyway. Two to one call it. What's fairer than that, I'd like to know? We'll finish it out in the smoke right now." u What?" There was considerably more than pained incredulity in the judge's tone. '' We'll shoot it out with 'em here, I said. I ain't kicked all the fighting blood out of you, have I ? If I have I can soon kick it in again. Here, come alive, you lousy pup ! Get the gun off that feller I downed. The Trap 181 It's on his leg yet. His Winchester is over there in the corner. It's loaded, and there's two boxes of cart- ridges on that shelf. Bring 'em all over here. Then you take that window and I'll take this one. We'll give 'em the surprise of their young lives. Get a wiggle on you, Judge. You've got a brush ahead of you. Fight? You can gamble you'll fight ! It's you or them, remember! " " Suppose he comes bustin' in the back way?" quavered the judge, perceiving that he had indeed fallen between two stools. " We'll try to take care of him. But he'll come the other way, I guess." But Slike guessed wrong, for Billy Wingo, judging that the psychological moment had arrived, shoved his gun hand through a window pane and shouted, " Hands up!" " You dirty Judas ! " yelled Slike and, firing from the hip, he whipped three shots into the judge before he himself fell with four of Billy Wingo's bullets through his shoulder and neck. Shot through and through, Judge Driver dropped in a huddle and died. Slike, supporting himself on an elbow, mouthed curses at the man who he believed had betrayed him. The murderer's supporting arm slid out from under and he collapsed in a dead faint, even as Billy Wingo, with window glass cascading from his head and should- ers, sprang into the room. CHAPTER THIRTEEN OPEN AND SHUT " WELL," said the district attorney, " you can't hold this man on any such biased evidence as this." " But you see I am holding him," pointed out Billy Wingo. " They'll get him out on a writ of habeas corpus." "They? Who's they?" " His friends. I suppose the man has friends." u Oh, yes," acquiesced Billy, u the man has friends. Too many friends." The district attorney looked away. ' You'd better let him escape or something," he suggested brazenly. " We we mustn't be made ridiculous, you know." u We? We? Don't get me mixed up with you, Rale. I'm particular who I bracket with, sort of. Another thing, the last time you were in here you went out on your head, remember. Well, lemme point out that you're here, I'm here, so's the door, and history is just the same thing over again." The close-set little eyes wavered. " I tell you, Win- go, the case looks black for you too." Billy Wingo rolled and lit a placid cigarette before he spoke. "Black? For me?" Inquiringly. " I'm afraid so." 4 You mean you hope so. Go on." Open and Shut 183 " There are a great many strange things about the whole affair. For instance, why was Judge Driver wearing your clothes when the bodies were found ? If, as you say, you saw the whole thing, why did you not prevent the murder? How do we know that you did not kill both Tom Walton and the judge and then lay the blame on this stranger? " " You don't know," admitted Billy. " That's the worst of it. But you will know. Yeah, you will know." " I intend to look into your side of the case very closely, Wingo," declared the district attorney. " It may be that everything has not yet been told." " There is more in this than meets the eye," nodded Billy. " Considerable more." " If you persist in holding this man for a hearing," said Rale impressively, " it may will, I should say involve you. I'd hate to see you get into trouble." " I'll bet you would," Billy concurred warmly. " You'd hate it like you do your left eye. But I'm gonna gamble with you. I'll hold the man till the judge decides what to do." " In that case, I'll send for Judge Clasp at once." " Why Judge Clasp? Why bother that old gent? " " Because Driver's dead," the district attorney ex- plained impatiently. " We have to have a judge to hold the hearing." " Oh, I know all about that. I've sent for one." "Who?" " Judge Donelson." " But he's the Federal judge, and he lives way over in Hillsville," objected Rale. " Judge Clasp is nearer. 184 The Rider of Golden Bar In a case of this kind when the judge of a district is unavailable, the nearest judge takes over the district. The statutes " " The statutes say ' any judge,' " interrupted Billy Wingo. u On this point I am quite clear. I looked it up to make sure. ' Any judge ' means ' any judge.' Nothing else. And you know that Judge Donelson is a territorial as well as Federal Judge. Technicalities can't pull your wagon out of this hole, Arthur, old settler." " I shall send for Judge Clasp at once," bumbled Arthur, old settler. " If you send right away, he should be here by day after to-morrow. Yep, day after to-morrow at the earliest." u Judge Donelson can't get here till the day after that," said Rale triumphantly. " Oh, he can't, can't he? " smiled Billy. " Unless he has an accident he'll be here to-morrow. You see, Arthur, I started Riley Tyler off to Hillsville ten min- utes after I arrested Slike. That's why I'm gamblin' that Judge Donelson will get here first." The district attorney openly lost his temper. " I don't regard the evidence as given sufficient for indict- ment. I shall ask the judge not to hold him." " Don't do anything rash, Arthur. Remember the hearing will be at the Walton ranch to-morrow after- noon." " The Walton ranch I It'll be held here in Driver's office, that's where it will be held." " Not a-tall. I want Judge Donelson to see the layout. Then he'll be able to tell better what's what. Open and Shut 185 The Walton ranch to-morrow afternoon. Don't for- get." "Your Honor, I don't see how this man can be held/' protested the district attorney. " I claim that the sheriff's testimony is biased. How do we know that it wasn't the sheriff himself who murdered both men and wounded Slike? " "You, can easily see, Judge," put in the coroner smoothly, " How flimsy the evidence is against the prisoner. It is practically his word against the sheriff's The prisoner has explained everything how he was coming to the ranch on business and was arrested by the sheriff the minute he stepped inside the doorway. Why, your Honor, it's the plainest open-and-shut case I ever saw. Absolutely nothing to it." " The coroner's right," boomed the district attorney. " And I hereby ask that Dan Slike be released from custody and " he paused dramatically. ' " Well " prompted Judge Donelson, his old eyes inscrutable. " And I feel it my duty to charge the sheriff, William H. Wingo, with the murder of Thomas Walton, the murder of Judge Driver, and assault with intent to kill upon Daniel Slike." " Didn't the coroner's jury bring in a verdict of * at the hands of persons unknown ' ? " inquired Judge Don- elson. " They did," admitted the district attorney, " but it was in direct opposition to the evidence. Indeed, the coroner instructed the jurymen otherwise." " Then he exceeded his duty. But that by the way. 186 The Rider of Golden Bar The jury brought in a ' persons unknown ' verdict. However, I do not agree with the jury." " I knew you would not," the district attorney cried triumphantly. " No, I believe the person is known. Sheriff, will you tell us in your own words, how you happened to be on hand in time to be a witness of the murder of Judge Driver?" Like so many trained seals those present turned their heads to stare at the sheriff. Some eyes were friendly, some noncommittal, but the majority were unfriendly. This was because the crowd consisted largely of county office-holders. Billy gave a straightforward and de- tailed account of everything that had led up to the murder of Judge Driver. As he concluded his story Judge Donelson nodded a slow head. ' Why did you not immediately enter the ranch house after you looked in the window and saw the boot soles of the dead man? " u Judge," said Billy, with a whimsical smile, " sup- pose now you went out hunting and you wanted to get more than one deer and had only one cartridge, what would you do shoot the first deer you saw or wait till you got two in line? " " I see," nodded the Judge. " I see. Still, Sheriff, there is the word of Dan Slike. It would have been better had you had another witness." " Another witness," said Billy. " If that's all you want I have one. Riley Tyler, stand up." The younger deputy stood up and was duly sworn. He deposed that the sheriff's match signal to Guerilla Melody to send the judge down to the house had been Open and Shut 187 also a signal to him, Riley Tyler, to come down from the flat and take position under the window directly opposite the one at which the sheriff was posted. All this had taken place according to plan. Riley Tyler had heard every word uttered by both the judge and Dan Slike and had also seen Slike shoot the judge. Furthermore he had talked with the Federal deputy marshal in Hillsville and learned that the marshal had never even thought of asking Judge Driver to approach the sheriff concerning the alleged bootlegging activities of Jake Kilroe. Riley Tyler concluded his testimony and sat down, taking occasion as he did so to wink at the district at- torney. The latter glared back with frank dislike. " The evidence I have just heard, " said Judge Donel- son, " is clear. There is no shred, jot or tittle of it that throws suspicion on Sheriff Wingo. I will hold Daniel Slike for the grand jury. If Judge Driver were alive, I would hold him as accessory before and after the fact. Do you still think, Mr. Rale, that Mr. Win- go should be held? " "Why uh uh " stalled the district at- torney. " Tell me," persisted Judge Donelson, " exactly what you think? " But the district attorney did not dare tell Judge Donelson anything like that. Instead he said, with a smile he strove to make natural and pleasant: " Hold Mr. Wingo? Certainly not. I have mis- judged him. I am sure he will not bear malice against me." " Hold it against Mr. Rale?" said Billy, with the 188 The Rider of Golden Bar straightest face in the world. u Certainly not. I have misjudged him. But I am sure he will not bear malice against me." Even the judge smiled. Dan Slike, lying on an improvised bed of blankets in the corner of the room, raised his head. " You'll never hang me, y'understand," said Dan Slike. " And you ain't got a jail in the territory big enough to hold me after I get shut of these scratches. I'll see you later, Sheriff." Dan Slike added a curse or two and relapsed into silence. Not a likable person, Mr. Slike. No, not at all. " This," said Rafe Tuckleton, " is a helluva note." " It's all your fault," the district attorney recrimin- ated bitterly. " You did most of it," flung back Rafe, always an enthusiastic player at the great game of passing the buck. " You know damn well " u Who thought of it first? " interrupted the district attorney. " Who was the bright li'l feller, I'd like to know?" " Don't you try to ride me," snarled the genial Rafe. " Dontcha do it." u Aw, shut up; you gimme a pain! Gawd, and I'll bet your parents thought you was just too cunnin' for anything. It's a shame they let you live. To think of all the fatal accidents that might have happened to you, and didn't, almost makes a feller lose his faith in Providence. ' Oh, yes,' says you, ' Wingo will walk into the trap with his eyes shut. It'll be just too easy.' ' Open and Shut 189 " Well, the first part worked all right," protested Rafe Tuckleton. " Dan downed Walton without any trouble. How could I tell Driver would slip up on his part? I'm glad Slike downed him. Served him right for being a fool. Reelfoot did his part all right, too." " How do we know Reelfoot did? How do we know what happened before the fraycas at Walton's? We don't. * We don't know anything except that Tom Driver is dead, Dan Slike wounded in the calaboose, and Skinny Shindle has skedaddled." " Skinny tell any one where he was goin 1 ? " " He did not. Soon as he heard that infernal Bill Wingo had pulled through without a hole in him, Skinny saddled his horse and went some'ers else a-whoopin'. And I don't think he expects to come back. Oh, it's a fine mix-up all round, a fine mix-up." "Sh-sh," cautioned Rafe. " Somebody coming - oh, it's you, Tip. ' Lo." " Yeah, it's me, Tip," said O'Gorman, closing the door carefully and sitting down on the only vacant chair. " Look here, Rafe, what did I tell you about downing Tom Walton? " " I ain't downed Tom Walton," denied Rafe sullen- ly. " You had it done," insisted O'Gorman. " How do you know I did? " dodged Rafe. " By the way it was gormed up." " I suppose now if you'd planned it " " I wouldn't have planned it in the first place. I told you to keep your paws off, and now look at the damn thing." " It wasn't my fault," barked back Rafe. 190 The Rider of Golden Bar " Can't you say anything different ?" the district attorney threw in drearily. " You don't even seem able to obey orders any more," said Tip O'Gorman. u I don't have to take orders from you," flared up Rafe. " No, you don't have to. Nobody has to do any- thing they don't want to. But we've decided, Rafe, that hereafter you sit on the tail-board. You don't pick up the lines again, see." " Who's we? " demanded Rafe. " Craft, Larder and myself." " You can't do anything! " Contemptuously. " No? For one thing, we can keep you from ship- ping so much as a single cow." "How?" " Our ranges surround you on three sides, and where we don't fit in, the mountains do. You can't drive through the mountains, and we won't let you drive through us. That's how." "Huh?" "Yeah, it's root, hog, or die, feller. You gonna be good?" "I I suppose so." " Good enough. One slip on your part and you know what happens, Rafe. Bear it in mind, and it'll be money in your pocket." " You talk like a minister." " I wish I was one, preaching the funeral sermon over your grave. Lord, what a stinking skunk you are, Rafe!" Look here " Open and Shut 191 " Blah ! You are a skunk. So crazy after money you had to go and hurt li'l Hazel Walton. Damn your soul, I told you not to do anything to hurt her! And you bulled right ahead ! You lousy packrat, you've broken that child's heart ! She thought the world and all of her uncle, she did. I tell you, Rafe, you ain't fit to drink with a Digger or eat with a dog! " " I ain't gonna fight with you," declared Rafe Tuck- leton. " I was hoping you would," averred Tip. " There'd be one torn-fool less to worry about if you did." " No, I can wait," said Rafe with a feline grin. " Oh, I'll be watching you, you rattle-snake," nodded Tip. " Go easy, you two! " snapped the district attorney, as a dog in the next room began to bark. " There's somebody comin' up the path." The squabble went dead. " Good thing the wind's yowlin' its head off to- night," observed Tip O'Gorman. " I forgot myself for a shake." Rafe Tuckleton looked at the floor. There was venom in his heart and death in his thoughts. Tip O'Gorman fingered out the makings. He was shaking in the tobacco when Billy Wingo opened the door and strode without ceremony into the office. He was followed by Riley Tyler. The latter slammed the door behind him and set his back against it. " Three li'l friends together," said Billy, his eyes gleaming at them beneath the peak of his fur cap. saw your light as I was passing, Arthur, and I thought 192 The Rider of Golden Bar I'd sift in and thank you for all those kind words of yours yesterday. I appreciated 'em, you bet. You too, Rafe, did about as well as could be expected. Tip is the only one I can't thank." He smiled lazily on Tip. The latter grinned back. " It ain't my fault you can't," returned Tip cryp- tically. Billy nodded, although naturally he did not grasp the other's meaning, and said, u Got another li'l matter for you gentlemen. Finding you all together thisaway is gonna save me trouble. I'm in luck to-night." " Aw, spit it out! " Rafe directed rudely. Billy looked pained. " Our long-faced li'l playmate seems all fussed up over something. Well, boys will be boys, I suppose, and burned fingers now and then have got to be expected." He paused and regarded them gravely. Rafe's answering stare was darkling, the district attorney's uncomfortable, while Tip's was impersonal. " I hope you boys are feeling generous to-night," resumed Billy. Rafe Tuckleton stole a glance at O'Gorman. Gen- erous? 4 The fact is," went on the calm voice, " I'm takin' up a collection a collection for Tom Walton's niece, Hazel." Billy thought that at the mention of the ranchman's name both the district attorney and Tuckleton stiffened their slouching bodies, but he could not be positive. The lamp on the table gave a poor, weak light. " Her uncle's gettin' downed thisaway will be a bad blow for her. He was all she had. Y'understand now Open and Shut 193 the girl won't ever know that this is any benefit like. She mustn't ever know. It's insurance on Tom's life, see? Sam Prescott was keepin' the policy for him in his safe. Tom must have forgot to tell her about it. That's what Sam's going to tell her. How much will you boys give? " Tip O'Gorman did not hesitate. " You can put us down for a thousand apiece." " What! " chorused the district attorney and Rafe Tuckleton. The sheriff cocked an eyebrow at the two men. " You think it's too little ? Well, I guess maybe you're right. A thousand is enough for Tip here, but you two are rich men. Say twice that two thousand from each of you will be about right." The two rich men were speechless. But only for a moment. " Two thousand! " gasped Rafe. " Not a nickel." " Not a thin dime ! " contradicted the district at- torney. " Say not so ! " said Billy Wingo. Tip O'Gorman nodded. " ' Say not so,' is right." Billy looked at the speaker approvingly. " I'm glad Tip agrees with me. I'll take the money in gold, greenbacks and silver. No drafts." The district attorney squealed like a stuck pig. " No nothing, you mean! Whadda you think we are? " " A couple of rascals," was the prompt reply. " And there's a tax on rascals. That If I girl has got to be taken care of." Billy's voice was earnest. But a sardonic devil looked out of his eyes. He yearned with a great 194 The Rider of Golden Bar yearning for the district attorney and Rafe Tuckleton to join battle with him. He knew that he could easily take care of both. Tip O'Gorman was the unknown quantity. One could never be quite sure what Tip was thinking. One thing, Tip was neither a murderer nor a dealer in murder. That had never been Tip's way. And something told Billy that in the present crisis Tip would keep his hands off. The issue lay strictly be- tween Rafe, the district attorney and Billy Wingo. The district attorney by a great effort recovered his mental balance. " You are threatening," he bumbled lamely. " Not a-tall," returned Bill. " I only said you and Rafe are a couple of rascals. What's fairer than that, I'd like to know?" " It's blackmail extortion," the district attorney trotted on. " Blackmail and extortion to subscribe money for the support of a girl whose uncle has been murdered? No, no, you don't mean it, Arthur, old settler. You mean that you and Rafe will be glad to do your parts. That's what you mean." " No." Thus Rafe Tuckleton. " Yes and again yes. Three times in fact. Rafe, how about that last deal of yours with the Indian agent? Remember it? The agent, y'understand, gets drunk sometimes, and a drunk will talk. Ever thought of that?" If Rafe had not thought of that, he thought of it now. " And how about that last bribe you took? " pressed Billy, turning accusingly on the district attorney. Open and Shut 195 The immediate shrinkage in the form of the district attorney was plainly visible to the naked eye. He went a trifle paler too. " Do I get the two thousand apiece for Hazel Wal- ton, Arthur? " demanded Billy. : ' Why-uh yes, yes, of course. I'd always intend- ed to contribute. I was just fooling. Yes." "And you, Rafe?" Rafe Tuckleton nodded a reluctant head. " I'll pay." 1 That's fine," said Billy heartily. " I'll be around to-morrow for the money." Rafe Tuckleton did not attempt to demur at the shortness of time as he had done with Dan Slike. He recognized the utter futility of arguing with a man like Billy Wingo. " By the way," said Billy, staring hard at Rafe Tuckleton, " I wonder if it was any part of Dan Slike's plan to kill Miss Walton too? " Rafe's face went wooden. " How should I know? " Billy nodded. " I was just wonderin'. No harm in that, I suppose. Lucky she wasn't there alia same." " It was lucky," stated Tip O'Gorman. " Do you know I've been doing a li'l wondering myself. Why wasn't she there ? " " She just happened to be visiting the Prescotts'," replied Billy Wingo, his eyes on Rafe's face. Rafe did his best to return the stare, but his eyes would drop despite his best effort. "'You know that letter from Miss Walton Judge Driver threw in the fire the one you heard me tell- ing Judge Donelson about? " went on Billy. * Yeah, 196 The Rider of Golden Bar that one. It might have fooled me I'm only human, you know, if " " You're too modest," Tip interrupted dryly. " If it hadn't been for one or two li'l things, " resumed Billy. " The handwriting was a fine imitation you couldn't beat it. But I knew she hadn't written it." He paused, and began to roll a cigarette. Rafe Tuckleton passed his tongue across his lips. The district attorney looked down at his locked hands. Of the three Tip O'Gorman was the only one to remain his natural self. " G'on," urged Tip, " give it a name." "You see," said Billy, "Skinny Shindle told me Miss Walton gave him the note about 2.30 P.M. Now on that afternoon I happened to be at the Prescott ranch. Miss Walton was there visiting Miss Prescott. I didn't leave the Prescotts' till nearly three o'clock, and Miss Walton was still there and intending to spend the night. That's how I knew she couldn't have written that note." " Nine miles from Prescott's to Walton's," said Tip. " Nearer ten," corrected Billy. " Skinny was sure careless. So were several other men. You've got to make things fit." He nodded kindly to the company and abruptly de- parted with his companion. " I wonder what he meant by ' making things fit,' ' mused the district attorney, following five minutes' silence. " I dunno," Rafe mumbled in accents of the deepest gloom, " but you can put down a bet he meant some- thing." Open and Shut 197 " He did," declared Tip O'Gorman, " and I'm tell- ing you two straight, flat and final, you ain't fit to play checkers with a blind man. It makes a feller ashamed to do business with you, you're so thumb-handed, turn- ble-footed foolish. At the time the note was written from Walton's the girl was at Prescott's. Oh, great ! And he knew it alia time. And you two jokes wondered why your scheme fell through ! You know now, don't you ? Gawd I What a pair you are ! Oh, I've always believed that a man makes his own li'l hell. Whatever devilishness he does on this earth he pays for on this earth. You fellers are already beginning to pay." Thus Tip O'Gorman, the moralist. He departed wrapped in a virtuous silence. He did not dare let the others know the actual worry that rode his soul. He knew it was only a matter of time when Billy Wingo would be camping on his trail too. Lord, how he'd been fooled! He had never suspected that the sheriff possessed such capabilities. And how had the sheriff learned of that flour deal between Rafe and the Indian agent. The flour supposed to have been bought through another man. Rafe had not appeared in the affair at all, yet Billy Wingo knew all about it. And the bribe taken by the district attorney. There was another odd chance. Besides the two principals, Rafe Tuckleton and himself, Tip had not supposed that any one knew of the matter. It was very mysterious. Tip could have kicked himself. He alone was the individual responsible for the whole trouble. If only he had not proposed the election of Billy Wingo But he had proposed it, and now look at the result! " Say, Bill," said the greatly impressed Riley Tyler 198 The Rider of Golden Bar on the way to the office, " what's this about that deal of Rafe's with the Indian agent? You never said any- thing about it before." " Good reason," grinned Billy, " it just occurred to me." " Occurred to you? " puzzled Riley. " Yeah, I don't actually know of any deal between Rafe and that thief of an agent; but knowing Rafe and knowing the agent, I guessed likely they had been mixed up together in a business way. Seems I guessed right. Same with the district attorney, only easier. If he's taken one bribe, he's taken forty. Wouldn't be Arthur Rale if he hadn't." Riley Tyler chuckled. " Poker is one fine game," said Riley Tyler. At the office they found Shotgun Shillman. "What luck?" asked Billy. " Plenty," was the reply. " We went to the Cayley cabin first. Nobody livin' there. Ashes in the fire- place might have been a week or a month old. But the balsam tips in the bunks were older than that. They were last summer's cutting all stiffer than a porcu- pine's quills." " As I remember that cabin," reflected Billy, " the balsam grew all around it." " They still do. We found a quarter of beef hang- ing on a stub back of the house. ' There,' says Simon, * there's proof for you.' ' Yes,' I says, 4 let's see the cow it came off of.' Whatsa use?' says Simon. 1 Lots,' I says. * C'mon.' He did reluctant, bellow- ing alia time how we'd oughta follow T the tracks leading Open and Shut 199 away from the house toward the Hillsville trail a mile away." " Were those tracks made by one man?" inquired Billy. " Looked so to me anyway, we went along on the line of tracks leading to the dead cow. It had been shot all right enough. It oughta been shot. It had big-jaw." 4 You mean to tell me them fellers cut that quarter off a big-jaw cow? ' I says to Simon. ' Sure/ he says. 1 Aw right/ I says. 4 Let it go at that.' I poked around to find the other cow. Simon raising objections alia time to me wastin' so much time and trying to get me off the trail. Oh, he didn't care a whoop about me finding the second cow. Wasn't one enough? Oh, sure, to hear him talk! But I found the cow. It hadn't been shot a-tall. Died of the yallers last fall. And it had just about half rotted before freezing weather set in. ' I suppose,' I says sarcastic, 4 both cows were killed about the same time.' * You've guessed it," says Simon, bold as brass. ' Now all you gotta do is chase right along back to the cabin and take up the trail like I wanted you to do in the first place and trail 'em down.' He acted real disappointed when I left him standin' there and came away. I'd have arrested him right then only you said not to." " Good enough," approved Billy. " Plenty of time to arrest him later. I want to give him plenty of rope. One of these days I'll get a subpoena from Judge Don- elson and serve it on him. That'll give him plenty of time to think things over between now and the trial." 20O The Rider of Golden Bar " Simon ain't the kind to take things easy," mused Shotgun Shillman. " He'll fret his head off. About the time Slike is well enough to stand prosecution, Simon Reelfoot will be ready to bust." But the well-known best-laid plans are more break- able than the equally well-known best-laid eggs. CHAPTER FOURTEEN WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT " I TELL you, Rafe," said Reelfoot in a panic, " they suspect me they think I'm mixed up in this murder business." u Accessory before and after the f act," slipped in the district attorney. A reptile himself, he relished the wrigglings of another reptile. " If they prove it on you, you'll be hanged sure as Dan Slike will hang." " I ain't the only one they can prove it on," snarled Simon Reelfoot. "Who have you got in mind?" Rafe Tuckleton said in a colorless voice. " Both of you, for instance," Reelfoot informed him. " You do us a grave injustice." Thus the district attorney solemnly. Rafe Tuckleton shook his head at Simon. " Wrong tree. You don't know anything about us." Simon Reelfoot gaped at both of them. i4 Why, we fixed it up between us. You know we did. You even wanted two cows killed so's to make it look lifelike to the deputies." Rafe looked at the district attorney. " The man's mad." Simon's teeth snapped together like a cornered coy- 202 The Rider of Golden Bar ote. " If you're trying to put this thing all off on me " he began, and stopped. " We're not trying to put anything off on you," the district attorney told him silkily. " There's noth- ing to put off on you anyway. Not a thing. You're nervous, that's all, Simon. Your imagination is work- ing overtime." " Sure is," corroborated Rafe. " You don't think we've got anything to do with the murder of Tom Walton, do you, Simon? " The Reelfoot jaw dropped. The man stared help- lessly at Rafe and the district attorney. " Whatell did Say, what else was all that rigamarole for then?" " What rigamarole ? " Oh, so patient was the voice of Rafe Tuckleton. Reelfoot gulped. " You had me go to Wingo's office, and rile him up, and spin him a lot of jerkwater stuff about my rustled cows, so's to get him and his deputies all ready to go away with me, when Driver was to come in with that stuff about Kilroe and keep Bill in town while the deputies went with me. Well, you know how only Shillman went. But I couldn't help that. Anyway, I suppose you thought you was foxy not to tell me the rest of the story about Skinny Shindle and the fake letter and so forth. Gents, you was foxy. Yeah, you was foxy. But I'm foxy himself. I can put two and two together and make four any day." He paused and glared at the pair of them. " I wondered what it was all about. Yeah, I wondered, and I asked you and you said it was to keep Bill Wingo from mixing into a li'l stock deal. Stock deal I " Here When Thieves Fall Out 203 Simon spat upon the floor. " Stock deal ! " rushed on Simon. ' You never said it was murder." Rafe Tuckleton and the district attorney exchanged wooden looks. " Now that you mention it," said Rafe, " I don't believe we did." " I thought you didn't like Tom Walton," observed the district attorney. Simon Reelfoot swore a string of oaths. " I didn't like him, not a bit. But I don't want to be hung for helping having him killed." " That would be unfortunate," murmured the dis- trict attorney. " I ain't sorry he was killed, of course," Simon fret- ted on, unheeding. " That part was all right, but I didn't want to be mixed up in it. There's no sense in doing a thing like that if you're gonna be caught. And I don't mean to be caught! You didn't have no right to get me into this deal without telling me all the cir- cumstances first," he concluded weakly. " Then you think you've been badly treated?" purred the district attorney. " I know it," declared Simon. " I'm sorry." " I didn't come here for sympathy." " What did you come for? " " Protection. What do you s'pose? You've gotta protect me." " Listen to him, Rafe. Says we gotta protect him. That new brand of whisky at George's Place is certain- ly awful stuff. If you'll take my advice, Simon, you'll go a li'l easy on it till your system gets used to it." 204 The Rider of Golden Bar " Yeah, sosh up by degrees like," offered Rafe. . " Look here," said the exasperated Reelfoot, " either you fellers pull suspicion off o ' me, or I go to Wingo with the whole story." " What'll that get you? " demanded Rafe. " No- thin', just nothin'. Wild tales of dead cows and separ- atin' Bill from his deputies and all ain't evidence. Nawsir. Think again, brother, think again." " And, anyway," tucked in the district attorney, " what was wrong with the wild tale? It came straight enough. There were the tracks and there were the cows. Who can say your story wasn't the truth? " " I tell you, they know it ain't the truth." " How do they know? " Simon did not make immediate reply. It was the worst thing he could have done. " Well? "prompted Rafe. " They uh uh they know it." "How, I asked you?" " They didn't Shillman got suspicious over the cows." " Why did he get suspicious over the cows? " Simon Reelfoot wriggled in his chair. " Well uh I he did, that's all." Rafe leaned forward. His face was sharp with sus- picion. " Why did he? " "I I " Simon stammered, and bogged down right there. " C'mon," directed Rafe inexorably. " Spit it out." " One of the cows had big-jaw," admitted Reelfoot. Rafe sucked in his breath. When Thieves Fall Out 205 " What did the other one have? " almost whispered the district attorney. " The other one died of the yallers last fall," said Reelfoot in a voice that matched the district attorney's. " But," he added hastily, " it come on to freeze soon after. I I sort o' hated to kill two good cows." " Seeing that two good cows were all you were put- ting up in return for the benefits you would derive from the uh political situation, you could have afforded to lose them." Thus the district attorney, staring at Reelfoot. The latter looked with sullen foreboding at Rafe. The Tuckleton face was bloated with rage. " So that's how it is! " he choked out. " You had your orders and you muddled them out of rank mean- ness ! Too stingy to kill a couple of healthy cows, you hadda risk everything with one that died last year and another with big-jaw ! And then, after youVe got 'em suspectin' you good and strong through what's first, last, and only your own fault, you come to us for help ! " " Where else could I go? " queried Reelfoot sulkily. " To hell for all I care, you half-witted fool I A big-jaw steer! And the other one half rotten, I'll bet!" " I didn't think he'd notice it," defended Simon. "You didn't think! No, I'll gamble you didn't 1 You never have! You couldn't! My Gawd, you deserve to be hung! I hope you are! " " You forget, Rafe," said the district attorney, " that you and I don't know what all Mr. Reelfoot is driving at." 206 The Rider of Golden Bar But Rafe Tuckleton was too angry to keep up the farce any longer. U I hope the fool's hung!" he panted. " I'll take care not to go alone," said Reelfoot, press- ing his advantage. i You fellers will have to see that I'm protected or I'll tell what I know." "Blah!" blared the district attorney. " You wouldn't dare snitch! " u I'll dare more than that to save my skin," Reelfoot declared hardily. Rafe Tuckleton returned to the charge. u What in so-and-so and such-and-such did you do such a fool trick for? Don't you know couldn't you oh, whatsa use?" " You oughta told me all the circumstances," per- sisted Reelfoot. " That was your fault. If I'd knowed, I could have managed better." "I expect you couldn't," said Rafe Tuckleton, with an appreciable pause after each word. " What you gonna do about it? " Reelfoot wanted to know, fidgeting in his chair. u You'll be taken care of now, you needn't to worry." " Oh, fine, fi-ine. That helps a lot, that does, with either Bill Wingo or one of his deputies over to my place about every other day, snoopin' round and talking to my men." "They do that, do they?" " Yes, they do that." " What of it? " demanded Rafe. " They can't find out anything, can they? You weren't fool enough to let on to your men your foreman or anybody, were you?" When Thieves Fall Out 207 " Sure not. But " " But what? " " I don't like 'em slouchin 1 round this way. You dunno what'll happen. They might find out somethin' you can't tell." " If you didn't tell any of your men, you're safe," soothed the district attorney, " so long as you keep your upper lip stiff. You're just a li'l nervous, that's all, Simon. Nothing to worry you a-tall. Here, have another drink. Rafe, shove the bottle over, will you?" Rafe Tuckleton pettishly obeyed, muttering under his breath. It was only too painfully obvious that Reelfoot's remarks had upset him, and he didn't care who knew it. " Look here, Simon," he said suddenly. " You wanna leave right here your notion that you'll snitch if it comes to the squeak." " I'll think about it," said Simon, setting down his glass deliberately. " Because," Rafe continued, as though there had been no interruption, " you wanna remember it's almost as easy to kill two men as it is one." " I'd thought of that," said Simon, " and I brought two of my men with me to-night. They're down at the saloon waiting for me now." " A lot of good they are down there," sneered Rafe. " But they can do you and Arthur here a lot of harm later if anything happens." " Don't you trust us?" " Not so far as I can throw a calf by the tail," was the candid reply. " I'm goin' now. You fellers 208 The Rider of Golden Bar scratch your heads over what IVe said. I ain't gonna go to the pen for anybody, and you can stick a pin in that." When Simon was gone, the district attorney and Rafe sat in silence while a man, had one been so inclined, might have counted three hundred. Neither looked at the other. Rafe fiddled with his glass on the tabletop. The district attorney rolled a slow cigarette. The district attorney was the first to break the silence with, " Simon's got a bad case of nerves." " We oughtn't to have used him," said Rafe. " First thing you know the torn fool will say or do something we'll all be sorry for. I didn't think he was like that. " u Maybe we'd ought to have told him all of it from the beginning." " Not that. No, he'd never have gone in it then. He ain't got nerve enough. I'm afraid Reelfoot's days of usefulness to us are over." " He's done good work in the past." u The past ain't now. And I tell you, Arthur, if Simon gets any more jumpy than he is now, he'll kick the kettle over. You hear me, he'll do it, the pup! " Rafe allowed the district attorney two full minutes to mull over this, then he continued : " We gotta get rid of him." The district attorney looked over at Rafe, his upper lip lifting. " I suppose we gotta." ;< We'll work the old game over again." " Not on your life ! We turned it once ! And that was one too many." " We had bad luck, that's all. Just a li'l hard luck. When Thieves Fall Out 209 Look here, didn't Simon say either Bill or one of his deputies were always snooping round his ranch ? All right, what more do we want? We can fix it so's to get rid of two birds at a clip. And it'll work this trip. We'll do it all right." " We'll have to." The district attorney smiled grimly. Rafe Tuckleton gazed speculatively upon his friend. " How about Tip O'Gorman? " "Well?" Rafe came flatly to the point. " How about gettin' rid of him, too? " But this was going too fast for the district attorney. He shook his head. " No. Too dangerous."