is lookin' for you.'
`Now if that ain't lucky,' Drait replied. `I came a-purpose to see him; get a bit further away, Jim; you don't know me till we hear what he has to say.'
A moment later, the swing-door was thrust aside, and the officer entered. Short, barrel-like in body, with stumpy, powerful legs, he waddled rather than walked in. Meanness was evident in his puffy cheeks, slit of a mouth, and cunning eyes, which gleamed for a moment when they rested on the nester, and then almost vanished, as though a light had been lowered inside him. He had been given--but did not rejoice in--the nickname of `Stinker,' owing to a reputed adventure with a skunk.
Pompously throwing out his huge chest, on which his badge was prominently displayed, and hitching his gun-belt so that the butt was handy, he growled, `Drait, I wanta see you.'
Nick turned slowly. `Help yoreself,' he said. `But don't come too close--my nose is a mite sensitive.' A chuckle from an onlooker did not improve the officer's temper. `Funny, huh?' he sneered. `Well, laugh this one off : I'm arrestin' you.' `Is--that--so?' the young man queried. `I've often wondered how it felt. Seems simple. What d'you do next?'
The sheriff ignored the question--an evasion which made some of those present smile, but their faces became serious enough when he continued. 'Yo're charged with stealin' four hosses from the S P.'
The accused grinned. `How on earth did you find that out, Stinker?' he wanted to know.
`That's my business.'
`Shore it is, but you never do it, an' didn't this time. You had yore information from a cow-thief named Lanty.'
`That amounts to a confession,' the sheriff said eagerly.
`How d'you figure it?'
`Because' he paused, suddenly aware of an obstacle, and Drait finished the sentence :
`Lanty won't like bein' dragged into it, but he's goin' to be. Yestiddy, he an' three o' Bardoe's bullies ambushed, an' were just about to string me up when a couple o' strangers happened along an' interfered. The Bardoe men were usin' S P broncs, an' claimed to be ridin' for Gilman. I didn't believe it, an' set 'em afoot. So Lanty tries to come back at me by tellin' the sheriff he'll find stolen stock at Shadow Valley. Sent there yet, Stinker?'
`Yeah, an' if my fellas do find 'em you'll swing yet, for all yore fairy tale,' was the answer.
Drait, leaning comfortably against the bar, glanced round at the audience. `A hard man, our unworthy sheriff,' he remarked, and passed a piece of paper to the saloon-keeper. `Suspicious, too. Tell the company what that is, Sol.'
Merker read aloud : `Received from Nick Drait, four S P horses he had reason to believe stolen from this ranch.' He paused a moment. `It bears today's date, an' is signed by jack Gilman.'
Open sniggers greeted the discomfiture of the officer, who was by no means popular with some of the townsfolk upon whom he had been forced. He glared at the offenders, but could conjure up no retort to the blow. The nester spoke, contemptuously:`So you see, Stinker, I gotta decline yore invitation to the calaboose, but if I'm robbin' you o' one job, I'm givin' you another. When I reached home in the afternoon, I found Eddie Olsen--dead, an' hangin' from a limb. That don't seem to surprise you.'
The sheriff's unhealthy face had become a shade paler, and his attempt to depict astonishment was a poor effort. He lifted his massive shoulders.
`Nothin' that happens in Shadow Valley surprises me, 'cept that a damn fool should try to live there,' he sneered. `Gimme the facts an' I'll look into it.'
`As you did the murder o' young Rawlin?'
`That was self-defence, an' I'll bet this was too.'
`You'd lose; Eddie was crippled, an' he didn't tote a gun. He was hanged just as a warnin' to me.' A long- faced, bearded man at one of the tables looked up. `Why, there wasn't no harm in Eddie,' he remarked. `Hanged, huh?'
`Yeah, Pilch,' Drait replied. `Nine full-growed, masked men to murder one disabled, unarmed lad.'
`Yore chaps reckernize any of 'em?' the officer asked.
`Do you think I'd be here if they had?' Nick said savagely. The reply seemed to relieve the questioner. `Cattle-thieves, I reckon,' he said. `There's plenty about.'
'Yo're right, an' all of 'em own ranches. But these houn's warn't after cattle, but me, an' this proves it.'
He read out the notice the killers had left, and the sheriff shut his teeth on an oath; why did the cursed fools have to be so theatrical?
`What you expect me to do?'
`I ain't expectin', Camort,' Drait told him. `You'll do what yore masters' tell you, like any other tame dawg.'
Hard-boiled as he was, the bitter taunt stung, and the sheriff's face purpled with passion. But the flinty-eyed man who had hurled it at him was an unknown quantity, and Camort had a fondness for certainties. Remembrance came that, by virtue of his office, he was a privileged person. An ugly light in his slitted eyes, he ordered a drink, and turned on his tormentor.
`That'll be all from you, Drait,' he said furiously. `Pull yore gun, you...'
As the last word left his lips, he grabbed the glass on the bar, flung the contents full in the nester's face, and reached for his hip. Drait was helpless, blinded by the fiery spirit, and it seemed the dastard design must succeed. Camort's gun was out, and his finger actually pressing the trigger when flame jetted from the left hip of the strange puncher, now standing clear of the bar; the threatening weapon clattered on the floor, and with a yelped oath, its owner clutched a ripped fore-arm. Before he could move, iron hands gripped his throat, shook him like a rat, and flung him away. Against the power in those long, muscular arms the sheriff's bulk availed him not at all. The astounded spectators saw him stagger backwards, crash into a table, and lie prone amidst the ruins. The puncher stepped towards him.
`Stinker is correct,' he said. `Of all the rotten skunks I ever met--an' that's quite a few--yo're the meanest. I oughta blowed yore light out; if yu get in my way again, I'll do it--that star yu disgrace ain't a circumstance to me.' Camort, understanding that he was safe for the time, ventured a threat : `I'll git you both for this.'
Sudden laughed, and looked at the company. `Make a note o' that, gents. If we're found shot from behind, yu'll know who did it.'
`You betcha,' Pilch replied. `An' don't judge this town by that fella, Mister--he warn't no pop'lar selection. If he'd downed Drait by that trick I'd 'a' laid him out too, an' that's whatever.'
`Good for yu,' the puncher smiled, and seeing that his friend now had the use of his eyes again, added, `Comin', Nick?'
When they were in the saddle again, the nester said, `That's the second time in twenty-four hours you've saved my life. Hell, I'll be scared to go about without you soon, but if the ante is too big, I ain't holdin' you.'
`Shucks!' the other said. `Why, that two-bit imitation peace-officer would say I'd run away from him. No, sir, I'm seein' this game through to my last chip.'
`I'm shore obliged,' Drait said, and meant much more.
Chapter IV
A week passed uneventfully. Every morning Mary rode up the valley with her husband for a lesson in shooting, only to come back with a sense of frustration. He was a considerate, attentive companion and nothing more; all her advances failed to penetrate the armour of bluff good-fellowship in which he seemed to have encased himself. At times, she wondered if he suspected her design and was also playing a part--a thought which only stiffened her resolve to punish him. But nevertheless, she enjoyed the jaunts, the valley had an endless variety of interest. So she was conscious of real disappointment when Nick announced he could not accompany her.
`Gotta go into town,' he explained. `O' course, you could take Beau.'
The suggestion was casually made, but there was an expression on his face she could not read. `I shall be quite all right by myself,' she replied.
`I dunno--that end ain't plugged yet,' he said doubtfully. `Have yore gun along.'
She promised, and then remarked, `The sheriff of Midway doesn't think much of you, does he?' This brought the ghost of a grin. `I wouldn't wonder if he's thinkin' quite a lot o' me,' he drawled. `Are you taking Mister Green?'
This time there could be no evasion. `Who's been talkin' outa turn?' he asked.
