run.
'Hey, Jim, the Ol' Man's just bin aroun'--said for yu to go see him as soon as yu showed up,' he explained. 'I'm bettin' suthin' has broke loose--he was lookin' as mad as a singed cat.'
Turning his horse over to Bill, the foreman strode to the ranch-house. Tied to the rail of the verandah was the pony Lu Lavigne rode, and on stepping into the living-room he saw the lady herself, seated in a large chair. She greeted him with a cool nod, and then her attention went back to Purdie, who was pacing up and down in an obvious attempt to overcome his passion. He paused as the foreman entered, and growled.
'Glad yu've come, Jim.' He waved a hand savagely at his guest. 'One o' Burdette's creatures; he hadn't the sand to come himself an' sends a woman.'
The girl flushed. 'That's not true,' she protested. 'I have no part in King Burdette's business--he is merely a friend. He asked me to bring his message because he expected to be shot on sight if he showed himself here.'
'He was damn right too,' the rancher grimly agreed. 'That's my way o' treatin' vermin.'
Lu Lavigne shrugged her slim shoulders. 'It would have helped your daughter so much, wouldn't it?' she retorted.
The foreman judged it was time to put in a word: 'Burdette makin' an offer, Purdie?' he asked.
The cattleman stopped and whirled. 'Yeah, the sort yu might expect from such a dirty road-agent,' he replied fiercely. 'I'm to sign a paper that woman has fetched, makin' over my ranch an' cattle to him for value received, an' in return, I get my girl back unharmed.'
Sudden did not reply at once; the magnitude and audacity of the demand staggered him. He looked at the lady, sitting there with a set, wooden face devoid of all expression, and his thoughts went straying.
'An' if the paper ain't signed?' he said at last.
'Luce Burdette will die, and your daughter, Mister Purdie, will want to,' the messenger replied tonelessly.
'So Luce failed?'
'King was watching; he let them almost escape.'
Sudden nodded; it was a jest which would appeal to the elder Burdette, and he could picture his unholy glee in thus playing cat and mouse with his captives. Purdie paused again in his perambulation.
'He can kill Luce an' welcome--it's on'y a Burdette less in the world an' all to the good,' he rapped out. 'Do yu reckon he'd dare do what he threatens to my daughter?'
'I am quite sure of it,' the visitor said coldly.
The old man glared at her. 'An' yu stand for that?' he asked.
'What is it to do with me?'
'She's a woman--like yoreself.'
Lu Lavigne smiled bitterly. 'No, she is not a woman like myself,' she retorted. 'Nan Purdie is a superior being, with a college education, a wealthy father, and far too proud to look at the keeper of a drinking-saloon. Why should I worry what happens to her? How should it concern me if you and King Burdette have a difference and he takes his own way of settling it?'
The foreman was watching her, and under the steady scrutiny of those grey-blue eyes her own dropped. Then he spoke, quietly :
'Possibly yu have a right to think like that, but yu--don't,' he said. 'Is there any way yu can help us, ma'am?'
She shook her head. 'I can do nothing. King Burdette holds all the cards.'
The cattleman's harsh voice cut in : 'Yo're a particular friend o' his, ain't yu?'
The girl's manner was instantly hostile again. 'Has that anything to do with it?' she said icily.
'I figure it might have,' the rancher replied. 'Yo're one o' the cards he don't hold at the moment; s'pose we keep yu here?'
Mrs. Lavigne's laugh was genuine. 'Do you really imagine King would let that interfere with his plans?' she asked. 'You should study your enemies better, sir.' Her voice took on a touch of acid. 'And what would the town think? A most respectable citizen entertaining a dance-hall drab at his most respectable ranch in the absence of his most respectable daughter. Why, Mister Purdie, even your most respectable foreman will tell you that it wouldn't do at all.'
The gibing, scornful tirade ended; the speaker was watching Sudden, who appeared to be searching for something. Noting her interested gaze, he explained.
'I'm lookin' for that foreman yu was mentionin',' he said quizzically. The disarming grin, which brought tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes, drove the ill-humour from the girl's face and brought a look of contrition instead.
'I'm a nasty little spitfire,' she murmured. 'I take it all back.'
'Which means we ain't respectable,' Sudden smiled. 'Ma'am, I'm thankin' yu.' Then he added gravely, 'But this ain't helpin' us.'
Purdie, who had thrown himself into a chair, glaring moodily at the ground, now looked up. His face, grey and haggard, was set with resolve.
'I've gotta sign, Jim,' he said slowly. 'As Mrs. Lavigne' --it was the first time he had used her name, and it brought the ghost of a smile to her lips--'says, he holds the cards. It'll mean startin' life all over again--for every- thin' I got is in the ranch--but sooner that than hurt should come to Nan. It won't be the first time I've been set afoot.'
For a space no one spoke. The girl's eyes were downcast, and the foreman appeared to be concerned only in the construction of a cigarette.
'Shore looks thataway, Purdie,' he said presently, 'but there's a kink in the rope that has to be straightened out first. The C P is another card Burdette don't hold--yet; sign that paper an' yu fill his hand. Who's to guarantee he'll keep his word? Me, I ain't trustin' him as far as I could throw a steer.'
'How'd yu propose to get around it?' the rancher asked dully.
'That's what we gotta figure out, an' it'll need sleepin' on,' Sudden told him. He turned to the messenger. 'Yu can tell Burdette he'll have his answer in the mornin', an' that's final,' he said, and opened the door leading to the verandah.
Lu Lavigne went without a word and the foreman followed her. Not until she was standing beside her pony did she venture a protest.
'You are taking a big risk,' she said.
'I'm used to it,' he grinned. 'Takin' risks is the salt o' life--for a man.' Then, with apparent irrelevance, 'Yu are too nice a woman to be mixed up in a mess o' this sort.'
With a gesture of impatience, she disdained his proffered help and swung into her saddle. Always this sardonic, gravely-smiling man baffled her.
'But where's the sense in it? At the first sign of attack on the Circle B the girl--pays,' she urged. 'You know Purdie will have to sign in the morning--there is no other way.'
'I reckon yo're right--mebbe,' he agreed.
With a little shrug of despair, she sent her pony clattering down the trail. Sudden watched till she rounded the bend, before turning to re-enter the ranch-house.
'I said `mebbe,' Mrs. Lavigne,' he smiled.
He found Purdie hunched up at the table, gloomily fingering the document which would take away practically all he possessed and rob him of the result of his life's work. This, following the loss of his son and the peril in which his daughter was placed, had brought him, tough as he was, near to breaking-point. But Chris Purdie had lived a life full of hard lessons and had learned to 'take his medicine' without whining. So that it was a fighting face which greeted the foreman, grief-lined but determined, with narrowed eyes and clamped jaw, the face of one who could be crushed but never heaten while breath was in his body.
'Well, Jim, what's the idea?' he asked. 'I'm s'posin' yu got one, or yu wouldn't take the chance o' Burdette not waitin'.'
'He'll do that,' Sudden said confidently. 'He figures he's got us cinched, an' besides, he wants Miss Purdie hisself--which is one reason why he won't play fair.'
The knuckles of the rancher's clenched hands showed white beneath the tanned skin. 'But that woman said ' he began.
