Danner played his hand absently, considering the information. The money shipment might draw Browder's interest, but the warehouse robberies probably had been carried out independently of his guidance. But none of this was his affair, Danner reminded himself, and he forced his mind to concentrate on the card game. At a quarter to three McDaniel wanted to return to the second meeting of the grangers.
'You go ahead,' Danner urged. 'I'm going to get a shave, then try to find Lona.'
'This was your idea, Jeff. You should—'
'Bringing them into it was your idea,' Danner corrected him.
'Now, don't get mad, Jeff. I—'
Danner shrugged. 'No anger, Billy. I just don't care what they decide. Now, you run along and I'll see you after the meeting.'
The hurt look in the big eyes of McDaniel brought a fleeting regret to Banner, but he said nothing. McDaniel left and Banner nodded to Brant and drifted over to the barbershop. By the time he returned to the street, McDaniel caught up with him.
'They voted to go along with your idea,' McDaniel announced. 'Once Olie said it was the best plan, the rest fell right in with it. This is going to win you a lot of friends and a lot of respect around here, Jeff. Folks will remember it for a long time. You'll see.'
'What will they—and Olie—think if Browder destroys a few of the grain wagons before they can get to Richfield?'
Consternation washed across McDaniel's face and he paled. Huskily he said, 'Will they try it —could they possibly—'
'We'll soon know.'
'No one even thought of something like that happening.' McDaniel's brow wrinkled in thought. 'Isn't there something we can do to prevent it?'
'That depends on how much backbone they've got,' Danner said. 'One thing is certain. Browder isn't going to let his private domain fall apart without a fight.'
Danner nailed the last of the sheet metal to the beams across the top of the barn, then paused to wipe the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his damp shirt. He peered over the front edge and found McDaniel about finished with the painting. The sun's reflection on the roof seared his eyes. Squinting against the glare, he turned and started sliding down the slanted sheet metal toward the ladder. The hot metal burned his rump and hands. When he reached the ladder he detected movement far to the south, and he scanned the flat country. Bundles of wheat dotted the fields, drying in the sun, awaiting the thrasher due next week. He spotted a buckboard moving slowly toward him and he perched on top of the ladder, watching.
Finally he could make out a graceful feminine form on the left side of the buckboard seat and a squat masculine figure on the right side handling no the reins. That combination couldn't be anyone but Lona and her pa. But the Swensen place lay to the north, not the south.
Puzzled, Danner descended the ladder and moved over to the water well. This was Tuesday— no, Wednesday—a workday. Olie wasn't one to waste a workday bouncing around the hot and dusty plains in a buckboard without a mighty good reason.
Drawing a fresh bucket of water, Danner drank deeply, then dipped his hands into the bucket and splashed the cool water on his face. By the time he finished drying himself on his shirttail and moved up to the house, the Swensens had drawn up in the yard.
Danner nodded to both, the reserved woman to whom he was betrothed and her ill-tempered parent who made no secret of his dislike of Danner as a son-in-law. Even though she had been traveling for hours, Lona appeared reasonably fresh and poised.
'Come in out of the sun,' Danner invited.
'We're in a hurry to get home,' Olie returned gruffly. 'Lost most of the day already, chasing all over the territory. Need to get home to the chores.'
Lona favored Danner with the briefest of smiles and Danner moved closer to the buckboard. She wouldn't have been able to talk Olie into corning by here if there wasn't something on his mind, Danner thought. He pulled his hat lower over his eyes and waited.
'May be trouble brewing,' Olie said finally, squirming on the seat. 'Four days ago, Tuso and a couple of hardcases came by my place and warned me against shipping my grain to Junction City. I've been all over the area today and found that Tuso has been there, too, warning the others.'
Danner nodded, feeling no surprise. 'What did he say he'd do if you go through with it?'
'Nothing.' Olie leaned forward, glaring truculently. 'He just claimed you talked us into it because you were up to something.'
Danner detected a trace of suspicion in the narrowed eyes. Olie wasn't certain that Tuso might not be right. The composure of Lona's features told him nothing of what she thought.
'Well,' Olie exploded, 'aren't you going to deny it?'
Danner shook his head. 'I didn't ask you people to do what I planned to do. What you think is of no importance to me.'
Olie snorted, and Lona cast a searching stare at Danner. But Danner kept a tight rein on his temper and waited until Olie grew impatient again.
'Well, what do you think Browder will have Tuso do?'
Danner said, 'Keep on trying to scare you off, just like he's been doing.'
Olie made no attempt to hide his dissatisfaction with the answer. Distrusting both Browder and his future son-in-law, he hated to move either way. But he had little choice. He squirmed with discontent.
'Some of the grangers have pulled out already,' Olie growled. 'But the others probably will stick.' He mopped his brow with a soiled bandanna, squinting over his shoulder at the mid-afternoon sun.
Lona spoke for the first time, her voice betraying nothing of her thoughts. 'You don't think Browder will try any other way of stopping us?'
'He might,' Danner said. 'It wouldn't be wise for anyone to take a grain wagon to Richfield alone. If you go in bunches of half a dozen there's less chance of raiding.'
Lona nodded in agreement, but Olie eyed him with continued suspicion.
'I don't like any of this,' Olie bristled.
Danner couldn't resist a sardonic grin.
'Then pull out of it.'
The team of horses began to move restlessly. They were thirsty and smelled the water in the trough near the well. Olie noticed it and glanced at the trough.
'Better water the horses,' Olie growled. He slapped the reins and the team moved ahead. Danner walked alongside. While the horses gulped the water, Danner helped Lona from the buckboard. She followed him to the well and took the tin dipper of cool water he offered her, staring at him over the rim of the cup. Then she handed the cup to Olie. McDaniel joined them then, his chatter easing the tension somewhat. But Lona kept looking at Danner closely and he shifted uncomfortably.
'I'm glad you are staying away from town,' she said finally. She waited for a moment and when he offered no comment, she continued. 'Two passenger trains were robbed last week and another one Monday—'
'And,' Danner interrupted roughly, 'naturally, I'm getting the blame.'
Lona nodded, her glance resting on him briefly then dropping. 'They didn't bother the express-cars—just the passengers.'
'How many bandits?'
'Five—each time—all wearing flour sacks over their heads. One guarded each end of the coach while two others searched the passengers. A fifth man was waiting with horses at the point where they jumped from the train each time.'
A professional job, Danner thought. Tuso, Green and the two new hardcases totaled only four, so Ears Dooley must be back in circulation. He wondered if Browder knew about their activities. It seemed slightly penny
