know.'
`He's not foreman over me, and I won't have him spying on my actions, the miserable sneak!' retorted the girl spiritedly. `Green at least behaves like a gentleman, and as for knowing nothing about him, he told me quite a lot.'
She proceeded to repeat what she knew of the new man's past, and was astonished to see her father's face darken and to hear a muttered oath.
`Why, Daddy, what's the matter?' she asked.
He dropped into a chair before replying. `Twinge o' rheumatism--gets me every now an' then. Reckon I'm growin' old, girl. Now about this chap, Green. Dessay he's all right, an' there's no harm in passin' the time o' day if yu meet, but I don't want yu to be too familiar with any o' the boys, see? Sooner or later yu will own this ranch an' have to boss 'em.'
`I do that now,' she retorted saucily.
`Well, I guess yu do, an' the old man as well,' he agreed. `Sorry if I seemed riled, girlie, but things is worryin' just now. Yu won't hold it agin me, will yu?'
Noreen kissed him tenderly. `Of course I won't, you dear old silly,' she said, and in her mind she added, `But that doesn't apply to your case, Mr. Rattler Blaynes.'
Chapter VIII
Old Nugget was receiving company. Seated round the rude table in his shack were half a dozen men, in addition to himself, smoking, drinking, and conversing in lowered voices. Poker Pete, his small porcine eyes covertly watching everyone, dominated the talk. He and Dexter, from the Double X, appeared to have some authority over the rest.
`We gotta ease up on yore ranch, Rattler, till this damned feller Green is put out o' business,' Pete stated. `We can't afford to take no more risks. Better give the Frying Pan a whirl; they got some good stock there.'
`They shore has--I was lookin' some of it over the other day,' laughed Dexter, and then, as he caught a sharp look from the gambler, he added, `No, they didn't see me--don't yu worry, old-timer.'
`We can fetch 'em across the 'Wise-head' range--streuth! Old Simon struck a bum brand when he hit on that--an' through the Parlour as usual,' remarked a tall abnormally thin puncher, who was known at the Double X as `Post' Adams. `Leeming will think Simon's bin helpin' hisself,' said one of the others.
There was a general laugh at this, and in the midst of it the door opened and another man stepped in. It was Snap Lunt. 'Lo Snap. Find yoreself a seat,' greeted Pete.
`I ain't stayin' long,' replied the gunman, and for a moment there was a tense silence; all present realised that this latest arrival had not come in friendship. `I'm here just to serve notice that I'm through with this game,' Snap finished.
Standing there, his hands hanging down, he watched the effect of his announcement. He knew perfectly well that his life hung on a thread, and that only his known reputation kept him from being instantly shot to pieces. Also, he had planned well in coming late, for with his back to the half-open door he had a line of retreat, and all of the others were in front of him.
`Bit of a tardy repentance, Snap, ain't it?' Poker Pete said coldly.
`Mebbe,' said the other. `I ain't claimin' to be any better'n the rest, but when it comes to knifin' fellers in my own outfit, or hangin' 'em alive over the rocks for buzzards to feed on, I'm done.'
`Aw, Bud was an accident, an' that other play warn't nothin' but a joke, Snap,' Dexner protested, though there was a grin on his face as he spoke.
The little gunman's lips stiffened into a sneer. `Keep that hogwash for them as is likely to swaller it, Dex,' he said. `Understand, I'm through. Any o' yu got notions?'
It was a direct challenge, and the maker awaited the outcome with narrowed eyes and ready fingers, while the men he faced reckoned up the chances. They could kill him, beyond doubt, but they knew it could not be done before the claw-like hands hovering over the gun-butts got to work. Some of them would never see another sunrise. For a moment Death hesitated over the spot--and passed on. The gambler shook his head slightly, as though answering his own thought, and then said :
`We're shore sorry to lose yu, Snap, but she's a free country. I take it yu won't snitch?'
`Yu take it correct, an' I'm plumb glad yu put it the way yu did,' retorted Snap meaningly. `That's one o' the things I never done, an' I ain't aimin' to start now. What I know I'll keep under my hat.'
`An' I s'pose we'll have to reckon yu against us?' put in Blaynes.
`I'm doin' my duty to the man that pays me; take that how yu like,' came the answer.
'Ain't got religion, have yu, Snap?' sneered Post Adams. `Shore, an' here are my prayer-books. Yu want to be converted?'
His fingers swept the walnut handles protruding from the low-hung holsters, his body crouched as though about to spring, and his face was a mask of ferocity as he glared at the last speaker. It was Pete who averted the catastrophe. He had seen many shootings, and he knew that one type of killer always works himself into a fury before getting his man, with the object, perhaps, of justifying the deed to himself.
`We don't want no gun-play here,' he said, `an' I'll drill the first man that pulls. Yu shut yore face, Post. It's a free country, like I said afore, an' if Snap don't want to sit in the game no longer, he's got a right to throw his hand in. Anythin' more to say, Lunt? 'Cause we got business to talk over what won't interest yu now.'
`On'y this,' Snap said. `If there's a feller here who wants to argue with me at any time 'bout what I choose to do, he knows where to find me.'
His narrowed eyes watched Adams as he spoke, and there was no doubt as to whom the invitation was meant for, but the Double X puncher made no reply; he had courage, but the little gunman was a chilly proposition. Snap waited for a few moments and then, with a sneering laugh, backed slowly to the door, slid through and closed it behind him. Not until they heard the splashing of his horse fording the creek did anyone speak, and then Dexter said :
`We lose a useful man. Is it safe to trust him?'
`I'm sayin' it ain't--he'll snitch as shore as hell,' Adams put in. `Yu oughtta let us get him, Pete.'
`Think so, do yu?' sneered the gambler. `If I'd been fool enough to do that we'd have lost three or four useful men. Snap's quicker than any of us, an' he came loaded for trouble. O' course, if yu reckon he ain't to be relied on, there's time aplenty to make it safe. He's headed for the Y Z, an' I don't suppose he'll hurry. The side trail'd put yu ahead o' him an' he'll be in plain sight where the trail skirts The Gut. Me, I ain't worryin'. I dunno why he's throwed us down, but I think he's square.'
Thus he cunningly dissociated himself from the murder of the renegade, while giving it his sanction and even egging the others on to the deed. As he had expected, Post Adams got up at once; the gunman's challenge, which he had not dared to take up, rankled deeply.
`Better be shore than sorry, I guess,' he said. `Who's a-comin'?'
`I'm with yu, Post. Never did like that little runt anyway,'said another of the Double X men, a heavy, stolid fellow of Teutonic extraction, who answered to the name of `Dutch.' `Any more?' asked Post, looking round.
`Ain't two o' you enough to bush-whack one man?' gibed Rattler. `What yu skeered of?'
`Not o' yu, anyway,' snapped Adams, as he stamped out of the room, followed by Dutch.
The flat report of a rifle-shot, followed in a moment by a second and then a third, made Green pull in his horse, and then force the animal down the slope of the ridge along which he had been riding; a man on the skyline makes too good a target. Again the three shots rang out, the second instantly followed by the third.
`Two to one,' decided the puncher. `Mr. First Man fires, an' when Mr. Single replies, Mr. Second pumps one into his smoke. I reckon it may be worth lookin' into.'
Dismounting and tying his horse, he took his rifle from the saddle and stole cautiously down a steepish declivity in the direction he believed the man he called Mr. Single to be. Soon he came upon a horse tied in a ounch of cottonwoods, and bearing the Y Z brand. A little further on, stretched full length behind a small boulder and cuddling the stock of his Winchester repeater, was a man he instantly recognised as Snap Lunt. He had no hat, and was cursing painstakingly.
'Lo, Snap. What's the trouble?' Green asked.
Like a flash the head of the prostrate man came round, and his left hand went to his hip, only to fall away again when he saw who the newcomer was. He grinned.
