Sudden, on horseback. They found the lawyer awaiting them on the veranda, in conversation with a little, old, grey-bearded man. He greeted them cordially, and when they had dismounted, swept an arm around.
`Well, Miss Darrell, there's your domain,' he said.
She gazed at him, big-eyed. `Do you mean that I possess all this land?' she cried.
Seale smiled, and shook his head. `No, you actually own not much more than the buildings occupy, but you have priority grazing rights for many miles about, which is all you need.' He beckoned to the bearded man. `This is Rod Milton, the cook, one of your grandfather's old servants.'
`Pleased to meetcha, ma'am,' Milton said, and then, as he saw her clearly, `Gosh! I could a'most believe it was Miss Mary back agin.'
`You knew my mother?' the girl cried.
`I gentled her first pony,' he replied. `But that was afore we come to these parts. Yo're as like her as one dollar is to another.'
`Rod was anxious about his job, but I told him you'd probably keep him on,' Seale said.
`But, of course. Lindy is coming as housekeeper, she'll need help in the kitchen.'
The little man grinned shyly as he regarded the Negress. `I don' reckon my cookin' will grade up to your'n, by all accounts, but I'm ready to larn.'
Lindy's smile threatened to absorb her ears; praise for her cooking was a short cut to her good graces. Rod had made a friend.
At the lawyer's suggestion, they went into the house. It was of fair size, consisting of the usual parlour, three other rooms, kitchen, and an adjoining shack where the cook slept. It was substantially furnished but everything showed signs of neglect. Milton read the faces of the women.
`Gilman didn't care none, an' I had plenty to do,' was his excuse.
At one room he hesitated before he opened the door. `This was Miss Mary's,' he said. `Till he passed out, the Ol' Man had it tended, but nobody never used it.'
`I can see that later,' the girl said hurriedly. The cook nodded understandingly, turned the key, and gave it to her.
When they emerged into the open again, Lindy chuckled. `We sho' got a passel o' work ahaid, honey,' she said. `An' yoh gotta spen' consid'able.'
Mary's startled gaze went to the lawyer; she had not thought of the financial side of the matter. He smiled reassuringly.
`No need to worry. The exposure of that rascal foreman saved us over a thousand dollars, and there is another thousand owed by Bardoe which we could not have had if Misner Drait had not collected it for us. It results that the ranch has now a balance of three thousand, one hundred and fifty dollars at your disposal.'
If he wanted to impress her, he certainly succeeded; it was more money than she had ever dreamed of possessing. Another thought came; that was what happened to the gold taken from Bardoe, which she had accused the nester of stealing. Sheglanced at him, glimpsed the shadow of a smile on his hard face, and looked quickly away. Seale was speaking again: `Reminds me that you're a good prophet,' he said to the nester. `Gilman broke gaol last night; overpowered, bound and gagged the deputy who brought his supper; helped himself to the keys, and walked out. They say Camort is furious.'
`He'd have to be,' Nick replied meaningly. `Well, that's one more coyote we gotta watch out for.'
Five men who had been smoking and loafing near the corral now approached, removing their hats when they saw the lady. The lawyer addressed nhem :
`Boys, this is Miss Darrell, your new owner. You will take orders from her in future.'
Four of them were rugged, hard-bitten fellows, nearing or past forty. They muttered `Howdy,' scuffed their feet, and appeared uncomfortable. The fifth was younger, and had the sallow complexion, black eyes, and lank hair which pointed plainly to mixed parentage.
'Ver' glad to meetcha, ma'am,' he said carefully, and to Seale, `Meestair Geelman, he no come back.'
`He will not, Tomini,' the lawyer replied shortly. `That's all.' When they made no move, he added,* `What are you waiting for?'
`Ordares,' the man replied, with a slinky look at the girl.
Drait stepped forward. `If there ain't any work to do on this ranch, no outfit is needed,' he said sharply. `If there is, get busy.'
The half-breed perceived that his malicious attempt to embarrass the new boss had failed signally: Nicholas Drait, whom he knew by repute, was clearly not a person to play jokes on. His companions were already moving away, and he followed.
`Any o' these fellas Pavitt's men?' Nick asked.
`No. Gilman got rid of all the old hands except Milton,' Seale informed.
`Guessed that. What do you think of 'em, Jim?'
`Pretty ornery bunch; that Greaser is a trouble-maker.'
`I'm agreein'; I didn't like his anxiety about the late foreman,' Nick said, and turned to Mary. `You'd better fire him.'
This was a chance to assert herself. `I'll think about it,' she replied.
`Worth while,' Drait returned carelessly.
After a meal which--to Milton's great satisfaction--earned a compliment from Lindy, the lawyer, Drait, and the puncher departed; Yorky remained to escort the women back to Shadow Valley in the evening. The Negress and Milton headed for the kitchen, Yorky went to unhitch the ponies and turn them into the corral, and Mary seized the opportunity to inspect her mother's room, which she had already decided should be her own.
It proved to be comfortably furnished, but the dust and decay had a depressing effect. The little chest of drawers had been cleared, but in a cupboard a few old dresses were hanging, mere moth-eaten rags. On a wall was the picture of a man approaching fifty, leaning against a fence, thumbs hooked in the cartridge-studded belt which supported a heavy revolver. From beneath the broad-brimmed Stetson keen eyes looked at her over a square, out- thrust jaw and close lips. Her grandfather. Violence, determination, self-will, she saw them all in the portrait, together with a dour, obstinate courage which would suffer to the utmost rather than give in.
Yet there must have been some underlying sense of justice in the old man, for though he would not forgive while he lived, his will showed a desire that what he had fought to create should not go to strangers. Impulsively, Mary made a mental promise to the picture, and fled from the room in a turmoil of doubt and despair.
Buried in one of the big chairs in the parlour, she strove to concentrate on possible changes there. Her mind fully occupied, she did not hear the long glass door to the veranda open.
`Well, if it ain't the Cattle Queen her own self,' said a jesting voice. `Honey, I shore am glad to see you.' She started to her feet. Beau Lamond, his hat pushed back, stood grinning at her. For a moment, surprise stilled her tongue, and then, as she realised the risk the man was taking, she cried : `You must be mad to come here. If Mister Drait sees you ...' `I seen him first, an' his bodyguard, Green,' he replied. `I scarcely think he needs protection,' something impelled her
to say.
`No fella around here wants it as bad,' he asserted. `I shouldn't tell you that, but I know you won't warn him.' `You know so much, don't you?' she said ironically.
`I know you don't care two cents about him, an' that's why I'm here,' he said, with an impudent leer. `I know now that this place is yourn, an' with Gilman on the run, you'll be needin' a foreman. How about it?'
Mary regarded him steadily, and had he been acquainted with Sam Pavitt, he would have remembered him at that moment. `There is no place for you here, and never will be,' she said coldly. `Please go.'
For an instant he did not comprehend; then the grin faded from his face and stark anger took possession. Puttin' on frills, huh?' he sneered. `I ain't good enough for you--now. Well, I'llgo when I damn please, but first, I'm takin' . .' He advanced into the room, arms outstretched, lawless desire in his savage eyes.
`I guess you'd better go, Beau,' a familiar voice chimed in.
The cowboy switched his gaze from the girl to a door leading into the house; Yorky was standing there. 'Lo, kid,' he said carelessly, and with sudden venom, `Git, yoreself, or--' His hand streaked back to his gun but his fingers had no more found the butt when he saw that the boy's weapon was out and pointed at his midriff. Beau shook his head in bewilderment; he was reckoned fast, but ...
`You stopped just in time, hombre--another move an' you'd be travellin' up or down, 'cordin' to yore past life.
