plunge:
'I'm feelin' mean. Jim, yore swell ter me, an' I bin holdin' out on yer--'bout Flint. It warn't the cyard game; he wanted fer me to spy on the 01' Man. I telled him where he c'd go.'
'Good for yu,' Sudden said. 'Glad yu came clean about it. Flint was likely planted on us a-purpose. Yu see, the Wagon-wheel is out to bust the Circle Dot, so we gotta keep an eye liftin'. Sabe?'
'I get yer,' the boy replied. 'We'll beat 'em.'
'Shore we will,' Sudden smiled. 'Now, I must be off; Dan don't pay me just to dry-nurse yu.'
'An' them Noo York smart Alecks played him for a sucker,' Yorky grinned, when he was alone, and went to survey his new finery in the mirror Nature had provided.
Beth Trenton sat on her pony regarding the scene of her recent discomfiture. She did not quite know why she had ridden there again except that, reviewing the incident in a calmer frame of mind, she had experienced qualms as to the way she had behaved. After all, the men had probably saved her life, and the fact that they were opposed to her uncle did not justify ingratitude. Looking at the placidly-moving surface of the stream, the danger beneath seemed incredible. Acting on a sudden impulse, she sent her mount down the shelving bank. At the very edge of the water, the animal shied away. She turned it again, and with a sharp blow of her quirt, tried to force it into the river, but with forefeet dug into the sand, the pony refused to budge. A satirical voice intervened:
'Well, of all the fool plays I ever happened on.'
Angrily she jerked her mount round and saw one of the men of whom she had been thinking. Lolling in his saddle, hat pushed back, he was regarding her with unconcealed disapproval.
'It pleases you to be rude, sir,' she said, with an attempt at dignity.
It don't please me to see a hoss punished for showin' more sense than its rider,' he replied brusquely. 'What in blazes made you want a second dose o' that deathtrap?'
'I didn't, but I was curious to find out if the animal remembered,' she said stiffly.
'An' if he'd lost his head an' rushed into the water, you'd 'a' been in the same pretty mess.'
'From which you, as a gallant gentleman, would doubtless have extricated me.'
'yeah, at the end of a rope,' Dan retorted. 'You'd 'a' come out lookin' like a dish-rag, an' lost yore pony.'
'Ah, yes, your clever friend not being with you.' The gibe brought a flush, and her next remark deepened it. 'What, may I ask, is your business on my uncle's land?'
The young man smothered his mounting wrath; after all, she was a stranger, and damnably pretty; and even as he loved spirit in a horse, he could appreciate it in this girl, lash him as she might.
'The land is mine,' he told her quietly. 'That rib o' rock is the Trenton boundary.'
She did not doubt him, and the knowledge that he had scored in their verbal battle brought an added tinge of red to her cheeks, and took some of the harshness from her tone.
'Then I am trespassing?'
'You can come when you please, but that don't go for them other skunks at the Wagon-wheel.'
Instantly he knew the slip had delivered him into her hands; the slow smile had begun, and it was too late to retract that one superfluous word.
'Other skunks,' she said sweetly. 'That means--'
'Yore uncle an' his outfit,' Dan finished.
'Also--myself,' she added, and waited for his apology.
She had mistaken her man; he was far too angry now, both with himself and her, to do anything of the kind. 'Mebbe I ain't clever at stringin' words together, but I'm tellin' you this: on'y a skunk can live with a skunk,' he retorted, and with an ironical sweep of his hat, spurred his horse, and was gone.
Beth Trenton stared after him in dumb amazement, and then--she laughed. 'Maybe I did rowel him quite a lot,' she murmured. 'And I was a fool about the pony. All the same, you must pay for that, Dan Dover.'
The Wagon-wheel ranch-house was a roomy, rambling one-storey building, standing at the top of a scrub- covered slope through which some sort of a road had been cut. It was flanked by the usual bunkhouse, barns, and corrals. A raised veranda extended along the front. On this, the ranch-owner was sitting when Beth, having handed her mount to a boy, approached the house.
'Where you been this mornin', girl?' he asked.
'Re-visiting the scene of my misadventure--I wanted another shiver,' she smiled. 'By the way, Uncle, did you thank those men?'
'I've seen Green, an' offered him a job here at twice what he's gettin',' Trenton replied. 'He--'
'Refused,' she said.
'How do you know that?' he asked sharply.
'Just a guess--he didn't seem the sort to be bribed.'
'No question of that; he'd done me a service an' it was one way of payin' him; I didn't want the fella. As for that whelp, Dover--'
'He risked his life,' she reminded.
Trenton laughed sneeringly. 'I wish he'd lost it,' he said savagely. 'He'll rot in his boots before he gets a word of gratitude from me.'
The girl did not argue; she was beginning to discover unknown depths in this only relative who had befriended her since the passing of her father some years earlier, paid for her education, and was now giving her a home. Evidently the feud between the two ranches was more bitter than she had suspected. The knowledge both saddened and dismayed her.
Chapter VII
Trenton, Garstone, and the foreman were closeted in a small room used by the rancher as an office.
'So Green turned you down?' Garstone remarked. 'It's a pity--we could do with him.'
'An' we can do without him,' Bundy growled. 'There's other an' cheaper ways o' dealin' with his kind if he gits awkward.'
'I'll have no bush-whackin', Bundy,' Trenton said curtly. 'There's been too much already, an' it's a game two can play.'
'I warn't sayin' any different,' the man lied. 'But this fella man-handled Flint a hit back an' if he tries to level up that's no business of ourn.'
Trenton took his pipe from his mouth and spoke through clenched teeth: 'If he does, an' I know it, I'll hand him over to the sheriff right away.'
'That'll shore scare him most to death,' Bundy rejoined, with an impudent leer.
Garstone gave a gesture of impatience. 'You said you had some news for us, Trenton,' he reminded.
'I have information which may be of value--if we can use it,' the rancher said. 'It comes from Maitland, the new manager of the bank here. As you know, the cattle industry has had a rough time for some years, an' we're all working on borrowed money. The Circle Dot is in so deep that the bank holds a mortgage on the whole shebang, an' it runs out in less than two months' time.'
Garstone looked sceptical. 'They'll renew--these small-town concerns have to take risks.'
'I doubt it; Maitland is scared--every rancher around owes him money, includin' myself.' He smiled grimly. 'Dave Dover gone, an' an inexperienced boy in the saddle makes all the difference. I guess he'd be glad to sell that mortgage.'
Garstone sat up. 'That's an idea, Zeb,' he conceded. 'What's the figure?'
'Forty thousand.'
'Dave Dover must have been mad.'
'No, the Circle Dot is worth more than that, an' he gambled on Lawson--the old manager--remainin'; they were good friends.'
'Where's the coin coming from,' Garstone wanted to know.
The rancher shrugged. 'We've nearly a couple of months to raise it.'
'And so has young Dover. Does he know?'
'I believe not, an' I suggested to Maitland, casually, that he might let the lad get over his father's death before pressin' him.'
'Damn it, that was clever of you, Zeb,' the Easterner complimented. 'Gives us a start in the race, anyhow.'
