Part 19 (1/2)

Halfway across the ranchhouse yard, Sanderson saw a shadow cross the light in the window. Again he grinned, thinking Mary had not gone to bed after all.

But, going forward more unconcernedly, Sanderson's smile faded and was succeeded by a savage frown. For in the shadow formed by the little ”L” at the junction of the house and porch, he saw a horse saddled and bridled.

Suddenly alert, and yielding to the savage rage that gripped him, Sanderson stole softly forward and looked closely at the animal. He recognized it instantly as Dale's, and in the instant, his face pale, his eyes blazing with pa.s.sion, he was on the porch, peering through one of the darkened windows.

Inside he saw Dale and Mary Bransford. They were in the sitting-room.

Dale was sitting in a big chair, smoking a cigar, one arm carelessly thrown over the back of the chair, his legs crossed, his att.i.tude that of the master.

Standing perhaps a dozen feet from him was Mary Bransford.

The girl's eyes were wide with fright and astonishment, disbelief, incredulity--and several other emotions that Sanderson could not a.n.a.lyze. He did not try. One look at her sufficed to tell him that Dale was baiting her, tantalizing her, mocking her, and Sanderson's hatred for the man grew in intensity until it threatened to overwhelm him.

There was in his mind an impulse to burst into the house and kill Dale where he sat. It was the primitive l.u.s.t to destroy an unprincipled rival that had seized Sanderson, for he saw in Dale's eyes the bold pa.s.sion of the woman hunter.

However, Sanderson conquered the impulse. He fought it with the marvelous self-control and implacable determination that had made him feared and respected wherever men knew him, and in the end the faint, stiff grin on his face indicated that whatever he did would be done with deliberation.

This was an instance where the eavesdropper had some justification for his work, and Sanderson listened.

He heard Dale laugh--the sound of it made Sanderson's lips twitch queerly. He saw Mary cringe from Dale and press her hands over her breast. Dale's voice carried clearly to Sanderson.

”Ha, ha!” he said. ”So _that_ hurts, eh? Well, here's more of the same kind. We got Barney Owen drunk last sight, and he admitted that he'd signed all of Sanderson's papers--the papers that were supposed to have been signed by your brother. Why didn't Sanderson sign them?

Why? Because Sanderson couldn't do it.

”Owen, who knew your brother in Arizona, signed them, because he knew how to imitate your brother's writing. Get that! Owen signed a bank receipt for the money old Bransford had in the bank. Owen got it and gave it to me. He was so drunk he didn't know what he was doing, but he could imitate your brother's writing, all right.”

”You've got the money?” gasped the girl.

Again Dale laughed, mockingly. ”Yep,” he said, ”I've got it. Three thousand two hundred. And I've got four thousand that belongs to that four-flusher, Square Deal. Seven thousand.” He laughed again.

”Where is Sanderson?” questioned the girl.

”In jail, over in Okar.” Dale paused long enough to enjoy the girl's distress. Then he continued: ”Owen is in jail, too, by this time.

Silverthorn and Maison are not taking any chances on letting him go around loose.”

”Sanderson in jail!” gasped Mary. She seemed to droop; she staggered to a chair and sank into it, still looking at Dale, despair in her eyes.

Dale got up and walked to a point directly in front of her, looking down at her, triumphantly.

”That's what,” he said. ”In jail. Moreover, that's where they'll stay until this thing is settled. We mean to have the Double A. The sooner you realize that, the easier it will be for you.

”I'm offering you a way out of it--an easy way. That guy, Sanderson, ain't on the level. He's been working you, making a monkey of you--fooling you. He wants the Double A for himself. He's been hanging around here, pa.s.sing himself off as your brother, aiming to get on the good side of you--getting you to love him good and hard. Then mebbe he'd tell you, thinking that you'd forgive him. But mebbe that wasn't his game at all. Mebbe he'd figured to grab the ranch and turn you out.

”Now, I'm offering you a whole lot. Mebbe you've thought I was sweet on that Nyland girl. Get that out of your mind. I was only fooling with her--like any man fools with a girl. I want her ranch--that's all. But I don't care a d.a.m.n about the Double A, I want you. I've had my eye on you right along. Mebbe it won't be marriage right away, but----”

”Alva Dale!”

The girl was on her feet, her eyes blazing.

Dale did not retreat from her; he stood smiling at her, his face wreathed in a huge grin. He was enjoying the girl.