Part 18 (1/2)

”Has the Rankin Creek Company sent that account and the money?”

Profound silence had fallen on the whole party in the room the moment this man entered. They evidently looked at him with profound interest if not respect.

”Yes, Buck Tom,” answered the landlord, in his grave off-hand manner; ”They have sent it, and authorised me to pay you the balance.”

He turned over some papers for a few minutes, during which Buck Tom did not condescend to glance to one side or the other, but kept his eye fixed sternly on the landlord.

At that moment the Englishman re-entered, went to his corner, spread his blanket on the floor, lay down, put his wide-awake over his eyes, and resigned himself to repose, apparently unaware that anything special was going on, and obtusely blind to the quiet but eager signals wherewith the cow-boy was seeking to direct his attention to Buck Tom.

In a few minutes the landlord found the paper he wanted, and began to look over it.

”The company owes you,” he said, ”three hundred dollars ten cents for the work done,” said the landlord slowly.

Buck nodded his head as if satisfied with this.

”Your account has run on a long while,” continued the landlord, ”and they bid me explain that there is a debit of two hundred and ninety-nine dollars against you. Balance in your favour one dollar ten cents.”

A dark frown settled on Buck Tom's countenance, as the landlord laid the balance due on the counter, and for a few moments he seemed in uncertainty as to what he should do, while the landlord stood conveniently near to a spot where one of his revolvers lay. Then Buck turned on his heel, and was striding towards the door, when the landlord called him back.

”Excuse my stopping you, Buck Tom,” he said, ”but there's a gentleman here who wants a guide to Traitor's Trap. Mayhap you wouldn't object to--”

”Where is he?” demanded Buck, wheeling round, with a look of slight surprise.

”There,” said the landlord, pointing to the dark corner where the big Englishman lay, apparently fast asleep, with his hat pulled well down over his eyes.

Buck Tom looked at the sleeping figure for a few moments.

”H'm! well, I might guide him,” he said, with something of a grim smile, ”but I'm travelling too fast for comfort. He might hamper me. By the way,” he added, looking back as he laid his hand on the door, ”you may tell the Rankin Creek Company, with my compliments, to buy a new lock to their office door, for I intend to call on them some day soon and balance up that little account on a new system of 'rithmetic! Tell them I give 'em leave to clap the one dollar ten cents to the credit of their charity account.”

Another moment and Buck Tom was gone. Before the company in the tavern had quite recovered the use of their tongues, the hoofs of his horse were heard rattling along the road which led in the direction of Traitor's Trap.

”Was that really Buck Tom?” asked Hunky Ben, in some surprise.

”Ay--or his ghost,” answered the landlord.

”I can swear to him, for I saw him as clear as I see you the night he split after me,” said the cowboy, who had warned the Englishman.

”Why didn't you put a bullet into him to-night, Crux?” asked a comrade.

”Just so--you had a rare chance,” remarked another of the cow-boys, with something of a sneer in his tone.

”Because I'm not yet tired o' my life,” replied Crux, indignantly.

”Back Tom has got eyes in the back o' his head, I do believe, and shoots dead like a flash--”

”Not that time he missed you at Traitor's Trap, I think,” said the other.

”Of course not--'cause we was both mounted that time, and scurryin' over rough ground like wild-cats. The best o' shots would miss thar an'

thus. Besides, Buck Tom took nothin' from me, an' ye wouldn't have me shoot a man for missin' me--surely. If you're so fond o' killin', why didn't you shoot him yourself?--_you_ had a rare chance!”

Crux grinned--for his ugly mouth could not compa.s.s a smile--as he thought thus to turn the tables on his comrade.