but that's why I sent for yu. What's the word?'
'Who's the man?' countered the visitor.
'Bartholomew, owner of the Bar B over towards the Mesa Mountains,' replied the rancher.
'I'll go yu,' Severn said shortly.
The ranch-owner's face showed relief, but he was a white man. 'If yu want to chew it over, take yore time,' he warned. 'I'm tellin' yu it's a man-sized job yu'll be tacklin'. Black Bart is nearly Gawd A'mighty in these parts, an' people that fall foul o' him don't last long unless it's worth his while to let 'em, which explains me.'
'That's all right for my end of it,' Severn told him, 'but there's somethin' yu gotta know.' The older man looked his question, 'Judge Embley introduced me to yu as Jim Severn, but I used to be called `Sudden'. Mebbe yu've heard the name?'
The rancher straightened up with a jerk and looked at his visitor incredulously. Heard of him? Who had not? Could this be the famous outlaw, the man who was said to bear a charmedlife and whose lightning gunplay had made his name a terror even to the most hardened 'bad men' of the West? The face was quiet, confident, smiling, but the steady, steely eyes and lean, hard jaw carried conviction. Masters did not hesitate.
'Shake,' he said, and then, 'Jim--I reckon I better go on callin' yu that?' Severn nodded. 'I guess my luck's turnin' at last. If I'd gone through the Territory with a fine tooth-comb I couldn't 'a' found a better man. Then yo're Peterson o' the YZ? But whyfor are yu takin' a hand in this?'
'Embley's an old friend o' mine, an' I had a reason o' my own. I got another one now,' Severn grinned, and proceeded to tell of the discomfiture of the Bar B owner in Hope, omitting, however, any reference to the girl.
Masters laughed aloud. 'Hell's bells, I'd 'a' give a stack o' blues to 'a' seen it,' he burst out. 'Black Bart an' three of his houn's sent scuttlin' by one man, an' all Hope a-lookin' on. I reckon that's the bitterest dose he's ever had to swallow, an' he won't forget it. Martin, too, is as venomous as a sidewinder; yu'll need to watch out.'
'I'm aimin' to,' Severn said. 'Yore outfit to be trusted?'
The ranch-owner shook his head. 'I dunno,' he replied. 'That's somethin' yu'll have to find out for yoreself. Stevens reckoned some were straight, but he gave me no names. Several of 'em Bartholomew sent here an' T had to take 'em. I'm givin' yu a free hand.'
The visitor nodded. 'Yu say Bart's takin' yore cows. Do yu mean he's rustlin' 'em?' he asked.
'No, blast him,' exploded the rancher. 'He just asks for fifty or a hundred to make up a trail herd an' I have to send 'em. Like I told yu, there's a reason why I can't refuse--yet. I'm mighty relieved to have yu here, Severn; I got a hunch yu'll save me an' Phil if anybody can.'
'Phil? I didn't know yu had a son,' said the visitor.
'I ain't, but I allus wanted one, an' when it come a girl I just had to call her Philipina,' the cattleman explained.
From outside came a cry of 'Hello, the house,' in a fresh young voice.
'That'll be Phil,' said the ranch-owner, rising. 'She don't know nothin' o' this, remember.'
Severn followed his host through the long window opening on to the veranda. The girl had danced up the steps and greeted her father with an impetuous hug before she noticed the visitor. At the sight of him she shrank back.
'Phil, meet Jim Severn, who has come to take charge here in place of Stevens,' Masters said.
She did not offer her hand, and there was no welcome in her eyes. 'I have already met Mr. Severn,' she said distantly.
The rancher looked surprised, and the newcomer explained. 'Miss Masters happened to be present when I bought my dawg. As I told yu, I had to argue some with the owner.'
He spoke with all gravity, but the girl sensed a sardonic note of amusement, and it increased her resentment. The rancher looked at the dog, patiently sitting by its master's horse.
'I ain't up much on dawgs, but I don't see no points about that one to call for argument,' he commented. ''Pears to me just an ordinary dawg.'
'Which yu got it--first wallop out o' the box,' smiled the owner of the animal. 'An ordinary dawg, that's what I liked about him. No fancy breeds for mine. That dawg is just folks, ain't liable to pun on frills, or h'ist his nose in the air an' think his boss is on'y a common cowpunch. No, sir, that dawg's got savvy, he's wide between the eyes, an' he'll do to take along.'
The cattleman laughed, but his daughter did not share his amusement; beneath the gentle raillery she suspected a rebuke for herself, and her eyes remained frosty.
'Yu will take supper with us, Severn?' asked Masters.
'I'm obliged, but I'll eat with the outfit,' the new foreman said, noting that the girl did not second the invitation.
The rancher nodded, and then, as a group of riders scampered in, he said, 'Come along, I'll make yu acquainted. Back soon, Phil.'
The girl gave the visitor the curtest of bows and then stood for a moment watching them. Though she disliked the new man, she could not help noticing the easy grace with which he moved, so distinct from the jerky, toed-in walk common to the cowboy. Somehow he suggested a panther on the prowl, and she shivered without knowing why.
The men were busy unsaddling, but they paused when they saw that their ernployer had something to say. The introduction was brief and to the point.
'This is Jim Severn, boys. He's come to take Stevens' job, an' he's in charge from now on.'
Some of the men said 'Howdy', others nodded, and a few looked only, and Severn fancied that the looks were not entirely friendly. He himself was silent, watching.
'There's yore quarters, Jim,' Masters said, pointing to a small log house standing apart from the other buildings. 'It's been made ready, but if there's anythin' else yu want, the cook'll get it for yu. So long.'
Severn put his horse in the corral and carried his saddle and war-bags to the foreman's hut. This consisted of one room only, containing a bed, table, cupboard and several chairs. There was a window at both back and front. Quirt, having sniffed inquiringly all round, curled himself up on the foot of the bedand lay there blinking at his master. The man grinned at him. 'Suits yu, eh?' he queried.
Having removed the dust of his journey, he sauntered down to the bunkhouse. As he approached the door he heard voices.
'I don't like dawgs no time an' I'se done skeered of 'em at night,' Jonah, the cook, was explaining.
Severn's entrance, followed by the subject of the conversation, put an end to it. The new foreman smiled when he saw the big negro shrink away from Quirt.
'I can tell yu a better plan, Jonah,' he said. 'You give the dawg a chunk o' meat to chew on an' he'll be yore friend for life. Dawgs ain't like humans--yu treat a dawg right an' he don't ever forget it.'
The black man's face split into a wide grin. 'Yessah, I'll suah feed him,' he said.
So it came about that when the men sat down to supper Quirt lay by his master's chair at the head of the long table, contentedly gnawing a big beef bone. Severn himself was silent, studying the men with whom he had to work. There were ten of them, and the foreman learned that three more were line-riding in distant parts of the range. Youth and middle-age were both represented, and Severn decided that on the whole they appeared a capable crew. One of them in particular claimed his attention at once, 'Bull' Devint. A medium-height, chunkily-built man of around forty, with a heavy-jowled, somewhat bloated face, small eyes and a long mousnache which accentuated an habitual sneer. Severn guessed that his nickname was short for 'bully'--the man looked it. He was one of those whose eyes had not welcomed the new foreman. With a similar expression he was now regarding his coffee.
'Hey, yu lump o' black rubbish, what d'yu call this?' he shouted.
Severn smiled and sampled his cup. 'Seems pretty fair coffee to me,' he said mildly.
'Think so?' sneered the bully. 'Depends what yu bin used to, T s'pose. Stevens wouldn't 'a' stood for it-- knew his job, he did. We won't get as good a foreman as him in a hurry.'
The clumsy effort to be offensive was apparent, but before Severn could reply, Linley, a boy who was always chaffing the cook, took up the cudgels.
'Snevens was a good man all right, but yu shore are a mite late discoverin' it, Bull,' he grinned. 'I didn't notice that yu shed any tears or went into mournin' when he was fetched in.'
Severn thought it was time to interrupt the verbal warfare before worse befell.
