The puncher chuckled. 'Nothin',' and when the other's eyebrows went up, 'Yu see, we ain't mentioned the matter as yet. I s'pose it'll be the usual forty per.'
'I'll give you double that to ride for me.'
'That's a generous offer to a stranger.'
'I am under an obligation to you,' Trenton explained. 'Also, I can use a man who has ideas and acts promptly.'
Sudden was silent for a space, and then, 'I'm not in the market,' he said. 'Yu can forget about that obligation.'
'But damn it all, I'm offerin' you more than I pay my foreman,' Trenton cried.
'Which wouldn't make me too popular with him,' was the smiling reply. 'No, seh, money never meant much to me; I'm stayin' by the Circle Dot.'
The rancher's face took on an ugly snarl. 'That one-hoss ranch is might near the end of its rope. I'm beginnin' to think I misjudged you after all.'
'It's happened before,' Sudden said gravely. 'I reckon I must be a difficult fella to figure out.'
Trenton glared at him, realized that he was being gently chaffed and, with an oath, stalked out. The saloon- keeper looked at his remaining customer dubiously.
'It was a good offer,' he commented. 'Zeb ain't regarded as a free spender; he must want you bad.'
'No, he's just tryin' to weaken Dan. At the end of a month, his foreman fires me, an' I'm finished round here,' Sudden explained. 'He must think I'm on'y just weaned.'
'Nobody never does know exactly what Zeb Trenton thinks,' Bowdyr replied. 'It'll pay to remember that there's another way o' deprivin' Dan o' yore services.'
The warned man laughed, but he paused at the door and took a quick look up and down the street before stepping out. Then he made his way to the store, to emerge presently with a bulky parcel which he strapped behind his saddle. He returned to purchase cartridges.
'Got many customers for thirty-eights?' he asked casually.
'Not any,' the tradesman replied disgustedly. 'Used to get 'em 'specially for a Circle Dot rider, Lafe Potter. He's bumped off, an' I ain't sold none since. Let you have 'em cheap.'
'No use to me. Store-keeper I knowed once got landed the same way, an' I just wondered if he had company.'
As he rode back to the ranch, he was thinking it over. The calibre of the weapon which had slain Dave Dover was not quite so common as the sheriff had attempted to imply; apparently nobody in Rainbow possessed one.
'O' course, a fella could buy his fodder elsewhere--the Bend, mebbe,' he debated. 'Wonder what became o' Potter's gun?'
That evening, after supper, he put a question.
'Yeah, Potter was wiped out some months back,' Dan informed. 'He was night-ridin' on what we call the creek line, an' was found in the mornin', after his bronc had sifted in without him. Same of story, shot, an' no evidence.'
'What happened to his belongin's?'
'He owed money in the town, an' the sheriff claimed 'em,' Dover said. 'I never heard of any sale, but Evans was paid a matter o' ten dollars, an' I'll bet Foxy pouched the rest.'
Which, having seen the officer, Sudden thought likely enough. The dead cowboy probably did not own even the name he was using, and there would be no one to make enquiries. Sudden saw that the trail had petered out for the present.
When he and Yorky set out in the morning, the boy was mildly facetious about the gunny sack tied to the puncher's cantle.
'That's a mighty gen'rous meal yo're packin', Jim. Gain' a long ways?'
'Bit further than usual. Can yu swim, son?'
'Yep, but I don't s'pose I c'd tackle the Pacific.'
'Yu mean the Atlantic--we're headin' East, yu numskull.'
'Shore I did. They's a chunk o' th' Atlantic in Noo York harbour. I useter go down ter see th' big liners come in. Oh, she's a swell city. I wish--'
'Yu were back there?'
Yorky shook his head. 'Not now, it's different here these days, but I'd like fer yer to see Noo York.'
'I have,' Sudden grinned. 'Wasted two whole weeks there once, an' was thunderin' glad to get away. Them brick canyons they call streets--'
'Th' fines' ever.'
'Mebbe, but they stifled me--I like fresh air. An' the crowds, everybody on the tear, like the end o' the world was due any minute.'
The boy digested the criticism in silence. This capable man, who had handled Flint as though he were an infant, would not give an opinion lightly. Perhaps the one city he had known was not quite an earthly paradise after all.
'She shore is a busy li'l dump,' he said, but less enthusiastically. 'I'll bet yer met some smart folks.'
'A few,' Sudden smiled. 'One of 'em tried to sell me a gold brick, but got peeved when I started to scratch it with my knife. Another said he'd returned recent from the 'per-aries' an' claimed to have met me somewheres, but after I allowed it was likely, as I'd been there, he lost interest.'
Yorky wriggled delightedly. 'He'd be a `con' man; they's a slick gang.'
'Shore,' Sudden grinned. 'Then three more invited me to play poker with 'em. Real nice fellas, they were-- paid all my expenses, an' a bit to spare.'
The boy's eyes went wide. 'They let yer git away with it?'
'I had all my clothes on,' the puncher replied, and Yorky had been long enough in the West to know what that meant. They passed the customary stopping-place and about a couple of miles further came to a grassy hollow, shaded by pines. At the bottom of this, rimmed by sand, and shining in the sunlight like a huge silver dollar, was a tiny lake.
'There's yore Atlantic, an' if yu know of a better place for a swim, I'm listenin',' Sudden remarked as he dismounted.
In five minutes they had stripped, and the puncher, with a short run, shot into the water and vanished, to reappear ten yards from the bank, laughing and splashing. 'C'mon, it's fine,' he called. Yorky tried to emulate the feat, but only succeeded in falling flat on the surface and driving most of the breath out of his body. Then he struck off in the direction of his friend, beating the water with feverish rapidity which soon had him gasping.
'Take it easy,' the puncher advised. 'A slow stroke'lI carry yu further, an' give yu a chance to breathe some.'
Presently they came out, to lie stretched on the sand, where the increasing heat of the sun's rays soon dried them. Yorky was surveying his ragged shirt ruefully, prior to putting it on, when Sudden, reaching down the gunny sack, pitched it over.
'Ain't hardly worth while, is she? See what yu can find in this.'
The boy groped in the bag, and produced a new, striped, flannel shirt, which he slipped into.
'Them pants o' yores is plenty ventilated but sca'cely decent,' the cowboy went on. 'Mebbe-- Yorky was already searching; the pants appeared, followed by socks, and then something which made him gasp--a pair of the high-heeled boots affected by range-riders, and a broad-brimmed hat, the tall crown pinched in the approved fashion. Petrified, the boy stared at the garments, until Sudden's voice aroused him.
'Climb into 'em, yu chump. What d'yu reckon clothes is for?'
Dumbly, but with averted face, he obeyed; apart from Old Man Dover's, it was the only kindness he had received since coming West, and he was ashamedly conscious that his eyes were wet. The things fitted easily, but well, a tribute to the donor's gift Of observation. When at length he spoke, his voice was shaky.
'Jim, I dunno--'
'Forget it, son. What's a few duds anyway? All yu gotta do now is get strong, eat more, an' fill out yore dimples. We'll make a cowboy of yu yet.'
Yorky was silent; there was something he wanted to say, and it was difficult. With an effort he made the
