'Say, Bordene,' he greeted, 'what the hell's yore cows doin' around here? I just happened on this bunch an' was takin' 'em to the 88 'fore they rambled farther.'
The explanation was plausible enough, but the marshal did not like the haste with which it was made, nor the accompanying half-grin. Andy, however, seemed to have no suspicion.
'Much obliged to yu, Leeson, for collectin' 'em,' he replied. 'My herd stampeded outa The Pocket in the storm last night. I reckon mebbe you'll find some more.'
'Tough luck,' Leeson commiserated. 'Didn't know yu was drivin'. That storm was shore a cracker-jack.'
'Seen any Injuns about here lately?' Green asked, and watched the man closely.
'Why, no,' was the reply, and then, after a pause, 'that is, I ain't actually seen any, but I come upon a fresh sign 'bout a mile or so north o' here yestiddy.'
Green suspected the statement was an afterthought, concocted for the occasion, but he affected to accept it. Bordene pointed to the cattle.
'We'll take these off yore hands, Leeson,' he said. 'If yu get any more tell Saul to let me know an' I'll send for 'em.'
The sullen eyes of the 88 man followed them as they drove the little herd away.
He jabbed his heels into the flanks of his horse, and rocketed away over the plain in the direction of Raven's ranch.
Dusk found Bordene and his men back in the valley. The day's hard riding had resulted in the recovery of about five hundred of the scattered cows.
'An' that's all we'll get,' the owner said gloomily. 'The rustlers an' that blasted quicksand have got the rest, an' we'll never see hide nor hair of 'em. No use makin' the drive with this handful, boys; we'll get back to the ranch an' gather another herd.'
The night passed quietly but miserably, for the loss of a comrade and the disaster of the stampede had been too much for the usually buoyant natures of the outfit. In the early morning they started the depleted herd homewards, leaving behind them, beneath a beautiful palo verde, an oblong pile of rocks. The marshal and his deputy rode in the other direction, and, at the far end of the valley, found what they were seeking--the spot where the stampeders had been stationed. Behind a sharp ridge the soft ground was scored and trampled.
'Shod hosses an' men wearin' boots,' Green commented. 'I had a notion that Injun yell warn't just the genuine article.'
Beyond a few spent shells there was nothing else, and though they tried to follow the tracks, they soon lost them in the welter of the main trail. Giving up the task as hopeless, they followed the herd. The marshal was very silent; he was remembering that Leeson had used the Apache cry that night in the Red Ace.
CHAPTER XI
Long before the remnant of the trail herd had got back to the Box B the news of the disaster had come to the Red Ace. On the afternoon following the stampede, a Mexican rider, who had approached the town by devious ways, slipped into the private office. Raven's small black eyes gleamed maliciously as he listened to the messenger's tale.
When the man had gone Raven sat thinking for a while, and then, taking his hat, sauntered down the street. Lawless boasted only one bank. Built of 'dobe bricks, with walls three feet in thickness, it presented an appearance, at least, of solidity. The manager, Lemuel Potter, who was commonly regarded as also the owner, possessed one of those curious neuter personalities which caused him to be neither liked nor disliked. He was a pompous person, fond of affecting a superiority which imposed on some and amused others, but he was reputed to be straight in his dealings. It was into this building that Raven turned, and, with a nod to the clerk behind the counter, walked through the door marked 'Manager.' At the sight of his visitor, Potter stood up, and then as suddenly sat down again.
'Afternoon, Potter,' the saloon-keeper said, and, not troubling to remove his hat, took a seat and lit a cigar. 'How's Andy Bordene's account stand?'
The manager's fleshy, clean-shaven face flushed, and with some attempt at dignity he replied: 'It is against all rules, Mr. Raven, for a bank to disclose the affairs of a customer.'
The saloon-keeper looked at him with an expression of amused contempt.
'Come down to earth, yu worm,' he said cuttingly. 'It suits me that folk should think yu own this place, but yu know better. Don't put any frills on with me or I'll trim yu good an' plenty, Mr. Rutson.' The man's cheeks became deathly white and his portly form seemed to shrink in his clothes at the name he hated to hear. Raven chuckled at the effect he had produced. 'I asked yu a question, Mr.--Potter,' he added, and laughed again when the other winced at the pause. Utterly cowed, Potter went into the outer office and consulted a ledger.
'Bordene is overdrawn five thousand,' he announced. 'I saw him a few days ago and I understood that the sale of his herd would put him right.'
Raven grinned sardonically. 'Mebbe, but he's lost most of the cows in a stampede,' he said. 'Now listen to me. Bordene is in a hole an' he'll be comin' to yu. Let him have thirty thousand on his ranch but tie him up tight. Yu understand?'
'Yes--sir,' the manager replied.
The title of respect only brought a sneer to the visitor's lips. 'See to it then, an' keep yore mouth shut or--I'll open mine,' he growled, and went out.
Potter paled again at the threat, but he said nothing; he knew he was hopelessly in the power of this man. With trembling hands he lighted a cigarette, and, as he had done so many times, sat there trying to find some means of escape.
* * *
Two days later Bordene, having brought his salvaged herd safely back to the Box B, was sitting in Raven's office, telling the story of the ill-fated drive. The elder man listened with a sympathetic expression.
'So yu saved 'bout a third of 'em,' he commented. 'Well, that's somethin'. But yu was shore playin' in pore luck, an' it hits us both. I told yu how I'm fixed, an' I was dependin' on yu gettin' that money. What yu aim to do?'
'Scratch up another bunch--it won't be such a good one--an' try again. I've sent word to my buyer.'
'That means waitin'--which I can't do. Why not see Potter? He'll let yu have the ready on yore ranch, an' that'll give yu time to turn round; yu can easy get clear when yu sell yore cows. I don't want to ride yu, Andy, but I'm bein' rode myself.'
So because it seemed the only way out, and to avoid letting down one whom he deemed to be a friend, Andy went to the bank, and the man who had advised him to do so grinned felinely when he was gone. Once he held the mortgage, he would see that Bordene got deeper in the mire, and in the end the Box B would his. Things had not quite come out as he had planned, but perhaps it was as well. It meant some delay, but his Indian blood had endowed him with patience. Andy had been profuse in his praise of his preserver, and presently the saloon-keeper went in search of him. He found the marshal and his deputy lolling in the door of their dwelling.
'Any news, marshal?' he asked.
'Bordene came from the Red Ace a piece ago, so I'm figurin' yu musta heard it all,' Green told him.
'I got his account, but I thought yu might 'a' noticed some-thin' he missed,' Raven replied.
'Andy didn't miss nothin' 'cept a visit to the next world, an' not that by so awful much,' Green smiled. 'Them war-whoops had it framed up pretty neat.'
'Yu reckon it was Injuns?' the other asked casually.
'Seemed so, didn't it, Pete?' the marshal said.
'Shore did,' the deputy lied with ready alacrity. He did not know what Green's game was, but he was prepared to back it to the limit.
'It's rough on Bordene, comin' on top o' the old man bein' rubbed out,' the saloon-keeper said reflectively. 'Yu ain't struck the trail o' Mister Sudden yet?'
'Somebody musta told yu,' the marshal said satirically. 'Me an' Pete was tryin' to keep that a secret.'
If Raven appreciated the pleasantry his wooden face did not betray it. 'What's come o' that no-'count Injun yu fetched in?' he enquired.
'Oh, he's around,' the marshal said carelessly.
'Send him on his way; this town don't want his kind,' Raven growled harshly.
At this order--for it was nothing else--the marshal's lounging form straightened. 'He's workin' for me,' he
