over to Desert Edge, will take charge as executor o' my will and guardian to Phil, who won't be of age for another twelvemonth. Yu know the Judge, for he recommended yu to me; he ain't wise to what I'm goin' to do, but he'll help yu if yu get crowded.'
'It's shore goin' to be tough on yore girl, not knowin' whether yo're alive,' the foreman pointed out.
'I've thought o' that, but there ain't no way round it,' therancher replied. 'If I left any message, her manner would givethe game away, an' Black Bart would hunt me down. I want him to figure I'm dead--that'll give rne a free hand. At Phil's age griefs ain't lastin', an', anyways, it's the on'y wagon-trail out.' He paused for a moment, evidently milling things over in his mind, and then, 'I've had to mortgage this place pretty deep to raise money for Bartholomew. Judge Embley fixed it for me, an' I reckon he can hold the fella who lent the cash--for a' while, anyways--an' that's all I'm needin'. Ridge of the XT wants four-score three-year-olds, an' that'll give yu coin to pay expenses. Yu see, I'm trustin' yu, Jim, an' I'm doin' it on what Embley said of yu.'
'Yu can gamble on me,' the foreman said quietly.
'Which I am, an' puttin' up every chip I got,' replied the cattleman. 'Now, remember, yu ain't seen me to- night an' don't know nothin' o' my movements. Adios.'
They gripped hands for a long moment, and then the rancher slipped out of the shack, feeling more cheerful than he had formany a month. He was in desperate trouble, trusting a man who was almost a stranger, and yet he had no doubts. Somehow this keen-eyed, capable fellow inspired him with confidence. To beat Bartholomew and nhrow off the bondage he had smarted under for years had seemed a vain dream, but now he felt that it was possible. It meant risking all he had, but he stood to lose that in any case to the blackmailer.
The absence of her father at the morning meal, though it surprised Phil, did not arouse any uneasiness; he had ridden away early on other occasions, though he usually left word for her. But when the day passed without any sign of him, she made inquiries, to find that his favourite horse was missing, but that no one had seen him leave. When another day dawned without news of her father, the girl's anxiety became acute, for the tragic fate of Stevens at once recurred to her. Much as she disliked doing so, she went to Severn, but he could tell her nothing.
'He had a deal on with the XT--mebbe he's gone there,' he suggested. 'Or p'raps he went to Desert Edge an' couldn't make it back to the ranch.'
Phil shook her head. 'He's never gone anywhere without telling me,' she said, and then, as one of the men approached, 'What is it, Darby?'
The man looked uncomfortable. 'I just wanted a word with the foreman, Miss Phil,' he replied.
The girl's face grew pale. 'If it is about my father I want to hear what you have to say,' she said sharply.
Seeing that the cowboy still hesitated, Severn said, 'Go ahead, Darby; what's yore news?'
'The Old Man's hoss has just drifted in--it's down there by the corral.'
Phil said nothing, but, white to her trembling lips, walked towards the corral, the two men following. As they did so, Darby contrived to whisper :
'Can't yu keep her away? There's blood on the saddle.'
Severn shook his head, and indeed it was too late, for the girl's quick strides soon brought her to where the horse was standing, muzzle drooping, and evidently played out. The reins were over the horn, where they might have lodged accidentally as the rider lost his seat, the rifle was gone, and on the saddle-flaps ominous dark stains were visible. The girl stared at them with a growing horror in her eyes, and as she realised what they might mean, a gusty sob burst from her lips. It was Severn who broke the tension.
'Get busy, boys,' he said. 'Hosses, guns an' grub; we gotta comb the range.'The sharp order brought the girl out of her stupor of misery.
'I shall need my horse, too,' she said, almost defiantly, looking at Severn as though expecting opposition.
But the foreman made no demur. 'Shore, yu'll want to help,' he said. 'An' yu know the country.'
Split up into pairs and with orders to stay together, the men were sent on their quest, each couple having a section of the range to cover. Phil was coupled with Rayton, one of the older hands, while Severn, the last to leave, was alone, save for his dog. He had allotted himself the task of searching the country towards the Pinnacles, where Stevens' body had been found.
Turning things over in his mind as he rode, he had to confess himself puzzled. The return of the horse was unexpected, for in the cattle country no man deliberately sets himself afoot, and this, with the bloodstains and missing rifle, seemed to point to an unexpected disturbance of Masters' plans. Had he met the fate of the old foreman, and, if so, who was the assassin? Clearly Black Bart could not be involved, since his interests depended upon the ranch-owner being alive. Had Masters unknowingly incurred the enrnity of the mysterious White Masks? Impatiently he dismissed the hopeless problem from his mind and set himself to the task in hand.
But his search proved abortive, and when he returned to the Lazy M, it was to find that the others had also been unsuccessful. Day after day the hunt went on, messengers being sent to Hope and Desert Edge, but no trace could be found of the missing man. It was early on the morning of the sixth day that Severn, going to the ranch- house, found Bartholomew and Phil on the veranda. The big man was explaining that he had been away, and had only just heard of her trouble. His face settled into a scowl when he saw the foreman.
'Yu can have my outfit if yu want it, Phil,' he said. 'Beats me where he can have got to. S'pose yore fellas have covered the ground pretty well?' This to Severn, who nodded. 'Can't see much good in searchin' any more,' the visitor went on. 'If he's above ground, he'll turn up; if he ain't--' He shrugged his shoulders expressively, and suddenly darted a question at the foreman. 'Yu got any ideas about it?'
'No, I'm in the dark,' Severn replied, meeting the keen gaze unconcernedly, and Bartholomew turned again to the girl.
'Nothin' to do but carry on an' hope for the best,' he said. 'An', by the way, yore father promised me seventy-five threeyear-olds to fill up a trail herd.'
'You will see they are delivered,' the girl directed Severn. 'What price yu payin'?' asked the foreman.
Black Bart's face darkened. 'There ain't no question of price,' he said. 'The cows are in part payment of a debt,' he added, to Phil.
'Got any writin' to prove that?' Severn persisted.
'What the hell's that gotta do with yu?' stormed the other. 'Yu've had yore orders.'
'I ain't takin' orders--certainly not from yu,' came the cool retort. 'I'm in charge, an' while I'm willin' to study Miss Masters' wishes in reason, I ain't handin' over property I'm responsible for on the say-so of any man, 'cept the owner.'
'Yo're in charge, huh?' jeered Bartholomew. 'Well, now yu ain't--Miss Masters is firin' yu right away.'
The foreman looked at the girl. Her face was flushed, her lips trembling, and it was evident that she was content to let the rancher speak for her.
'That's somethin' she can't do,' Severn said quietly.
'Can't, eh?' Bartholomew sneered. 'The ranch ain't hers, I s'pose?'
'Yore s'pos'n is correct,' the other pointed out. 'It don't belong to her until her father's death is proved, an' only then when she's of age. Masters put me here an' I'm stayin' put, an' that's somethin' yu can bet high on.'
There was a cold finality in his tone, and, having delivered this ultimatum, he turned and went about his business. Bartholomew stared after him for a moment, and then said to the girl :
'That fella is due for a lesson, an' I'm goin' to see that he gets it. Yu leave him to me an' don't yu worry.'
Long after her visitor had gone, Phil sat trying to size up the situation. All through the week, grief over her father's disappearance, and the consequent hard riding--for she had done her share with the men--had driven every other consideration from her mind. But the clashing of wills she had just witnessed had brought her position home to her. Though familiar with the daily routine work of the ranch, she knew nothing of the business side, and greatly as she resented Severn's calm assumption of authority, she was dimly conscious of a sense of relief. But she would not admit it; she hated him, of course, and she would go on hating until Bartholomew succeeded in getting rid of him, a task in which she mentally promised him her hearty support.
Chapter V
Two weeks passed without news of the missing rancher, and the regular routine had been resumed at the Lazy M. The new foreman's handling of Devint had, as he intended, convinced the other men that he was not one to
