string.'
'Takin' sides with the C P, huh?' Burdette fleered.
'I am not, but I ain't takin' orders neither,' Magee replied bluntly.
King's sallow face flushed at the open defiance, but he kept his temper. 'No call to go on the prod, ol'-timer,' he laughed. 'yo're takin' one order anyways--I want another drink.'
The saloon-keeper pushed forward the bottle, but he was not deceived by this display of good nature; he knew quite well that the Circle B man would not forget the incident. But he was not scared; running a Western saloon in the bad old days was no job for a weakling. Burdette stayed a few moments longer, chatting casually, and then made his way to 'The Plaza.' Here again customers were scarce, two miners wrangling over a game of seven-up representing the total. Lu Lavigne stretched a hand across the bar, sympathy in her dark eyes.
'King, I'm so sorry--about Mart,' she said.
'Shucks, whatsa use? I ain't grievin',' he returned callously. 'I'd like to meet the coyote what did it, though.' His brooding brows came together. 'Seen anythin' o' that fella Green lately?'
She shook her head. 'you are not suspecting him, are you?'
Her apparent interest stung him. 'Why not? He ain't no shinin' white angel, I'd say,' he gibed.
'Don't be childish, King,' she chided. 'I don't think he'd shoot a man from behind.'
Her defence of the puncher added to his anger, and he struck back. 'S'pose yu know why yu haven't seen him?' he asked.
She knew he was meaning to hurt, divined the evil in his mind, and it roused her to retaliate. 'I expect he's afraid of you, King,' she murmured, but her twinkling eyes belied the statement.
The blow went home; she saw his jaw tighten and the fingers of his right hand bunch up; had she been a man he would have hit her. And then he laughed.
'Mebbe yo're right, but there's a better reason,' he told her. 'Green's too busy runnin' around after Nan Purdie to give yu a thought, my girl.'
The effect of this assertion surprised him, for Mrs. Lavigne buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking convulsively. For an instant he was deceived--he thought she was weeping--and then she peeped at him between her fingers. Certainly the tears were there, but they were those of merriment.
'Oh, you men ! ' she gasped. 'King, you'll be the death of me one day.'
The man glowed at her. 'Yo're damn right I will, if yu play tricks on me,' he growled. 'Anythin' funny about Green shinin' up to Purdie's gal?'
'No,' she replied. 'The amusing part is that you should think it mattered to me.'
The tone and look which accompanied the words convinced him that he had made a fool of himself, and, strangely enough, restored his good humour.
'Aw, well, take it I'm plain jealous,' he said placatingly. 'Yu know I think a lot o' yu, Lu.'
'Oh, yeah,' she teased, and with a smile, 'What did you come to find out?'
'I came to see yu,' he replied, and when she emphatically shook her sleek head, added, 'I was certainly meanin' to ask if yu'd heard any tidin's o' California?'
'I haven't. Goldy Evans was in last night, and he thinks the old man is being kept prisoner somewhere.' King's eyebrows went up. 'Whatever for?'
'Goldy's idea is that Cal has struck it rich and is being held until he tells.'
Though she spoke casually, the man was aware that she was watching him, and schooled his features to indifference; King Burdette had abundant self-control when he chose to exercise it. Inwardly he was wondering how a theory so near the truth had got abroad, and cursing Riley for a chatterbox. With a careless shrug he said:
'Pretty far-fetched notion. My guess would be that the buzzards has picked the old boy's bones by now. When yu goin' to pay that visit to the Circle B, Lu?'
She slanted a mischievous look at him. 'Some day--when you're not there; I'll learn all your secrets then.'
'Do that an' I'll have to keep yu there--a prisoner,' he threatened. 'Think yu'd like it?'
'I don't know--yet,' she smiled, and then, as more customers came in, 'Now I've got to be busy, if your Majesty will excuse me.'
She bobbed an impudent curtsey and tripped away to serve the newcomers. King lingered a moment and then went out. Some of the men greeted him, but others took no notice, which brought the scowl back to his face. He was realizing that since the advent of Green the dominance of the Burdettes had seriously suffered. He cursed the citizens contemptuously, promising himself that he would whip them to heel when his hour of triumph arrived. Then he almost collided with Riley.
'Want yu,' he said shortly. 'What's this talk in the town of Cal strikin' it good an' bein' held till he opens up?'
'Ain't heard it,' the man replied.
'Well, I have, an' they got the story pretty straight. Yu been yappin'?'
'Is it likely? My neck's long enough--I don't want it stretched none,' the cowboy lied stolidly.
'Which it will be if this town learns the truth,' King assured him. 'Where is Cal?'
Riley stared at him. 'How in hell should I know? Yu took him off yoreself.'
'He's got away,' Burdette informed him, and added a few particulars.
'Damnation! Yu lost him,' the cowboy cried, and there was consternation in his voice. 'Then he'll know ...'
'Shucks, anybody could use that shack, an' he thinks it was Green put him there,' King said mendaciously, unwilling to let the man know too much. 'Point is, who's got him now? He ain't showed up in Windy. Sim reckons it was Luce--claims he recognized a footprint. Yu better keep tabs on him; we gotta find the of devil.'
He swung away. Riley waited until he saw him riding the eastern trail, and then dived into Slype's quarters. The marshal heard his story in silence, and then said.
'Wonder if he's double-crossin' yu?'
The same suspicion had already occurred to the Circle B rider--it was what he would have done himself--but he shook his head.
'My hunch is he was givin' me the goods,' he said. 'Someone has stole a march on him, an' likely enough it was Luce. I'm a-goin' to sleep on that young fella's trail.'
The marshal nodded. 'If yu find out anythin', Riley, come to me,' he urged. 'King Burdette couldn't act straight if he wanted to, which he never does. Yu an' me can put this through together. Sabe?'
Riley agreed, not that he had any illusions regarding the honesty of the marshal, but he believed that, of two rogues, he was choosing the lesser. Also, he wanted the officer's protection against Green, who might, at any moment, become actively hostile. Riley had courage, but it was the kind that requires the odds to be slightly in its favour, and he knew his limitations. For instance, he would never have dreamed of drawing a gun upon Whitey, and therefore the prospect of a 'run in' with the slayer of the Circle B gunman aroused no enthusiasm in his breast.
To Nan Purdie, loping along the trail to the valley, the world would have looked very good indeed had it not been for the shadow of the recent tragedy and the trouble likely to come of it. The slanting rays of the sun were not yet too hot for comfort, and a light breeze, spicy with the odour of the pines, stirred the foliage and dappled her pathway with moving patches of shade. Birds twittered in the trees, squirrels chattered, and a tiny stream sang as it merrily danced down the hillside.
Conscious as she was of the beauty around her--for she loved the land she lived in, and its many phases were a never-ending source of delight--yet she was not thinking of it. Her mind was dwelling on a certain glade, and a man she sometimes met there. She had not visited the spot since the day Luce had delivered her from his brother. Somehow this morning the handsome, insolent, debonair face of the eldest Burdette would intrude. The warm glow which filled her heart when she thought of Luce changed to a cold fear when her mind reverted to the other. A shrill, treble voice from behind brought her back to realities.
'Hi, Miss Nan ! '
She pulled up her pony and turned; shambling along the trail in pursuit of her came a boy of twelve. Speed was a matter of difficulty, for the trodden-over boots into which the tops of his ragged pants were thrust had been
