Part 41 (1/2)

For it seemed to him there was something forbidding in the sound; it was as though the sounds carried to him on the slight breeze were burdened with an evil portent; that they carried a threat and a warning.

He sat long there, undecided, vacillating. Then he shuddered, wheeled his horse, and sent him scampering over the back trail.

He rode to the Bar D. His men--the regular punchers--were working far down in the basin, and there was no one in the house.

He sat for hours alone in his office, waiting for news of the men he had sent after Sanderson; and as the interval of their absence grew longer the dark forebodings that had a.s.sailed him when within hearing distance of the firing seized him again--grew more depressing, and he sat, gripping the arms of his chair, a clammy perspiration stealing over him.

He shook off the feeling at last, and stood up, scowling.

”That's what a man gets for givin' up to a d.a.m.n fool notion like that,”

he said, thinking of the fear that had seized him while listening to the shooting. ”Once a man lets on he's afraid, the thing keeps a workin' on him till he's certain sure he's a coward. Them boys didn't need me, anyway--they'll get Sanderson.”

So he justified his lack of courage, and spent some hours reading. But at last the strain grew too great, and as the dusk came on he began to have thoughts of Dal Colton. Ben Nyland must have reached home by this time. Had Colton succeeded?

He thought of riding to Nyland's ranch, but he gave up that idea when he reasoned that perhaps Colton had failed, and in that case Nyland wouldn't be the most gentle person in the world to face on his own property.

If Colton had succeeded he would find him, in Okar. So he mounted his horse and rode to Okar.

The town seemed to be deserted when he dismounted in front of the City Hotel. He did not go inside the building, merely looking in through one of the windows, and seeing a few men in there, playing cards in a listless manner. He did not see Colton.

He looked into several other windows. Colton was nowhere to be seen.

In several places Dale inquired about him. No one had seen Colton that day.

No one said anything to Dale about what had happened. Perhaps they thought he knew. At any rate, Dale heard no word of what had transpired during his absence. Men spoke to him, or nodded--and looked away, to look at him when his back was turned.

All this had its effect on Dale. He noted the restraint, he felt the atmosphere of strangeness. But he blamed it all on the queer premonition that had taken possession of his senses. It was not Okar that looked strange, nor the men, it was himself.

He went to the bank building and entered the rear door, clumping heavily up the stairs, for he felt a heavy depression. When he opened the door at the top of the stairs night had come. A kerosene lamp on a table in the room blinded him for an instant, and he stood, blinking at it.

When his eyes grew accustomed to the glare he saw Peggy Nyland sitting up in bed, looking at him.

She did not say anything, but continued to look at him. There was wonder in her eyes, and Dale saw it. It was wonder over Dale's visit--over his coming to Okar. Ben must have missed him, for Dale was alive! Dale could not have heard what had happened.

”You're better, eh?” said Dale.

She merely nodded her reply, and watched Dale as he crossed the room.

Reaching a door that led into another room, Dale turned.

”Where's Maison?”

Peggy pointed at the door on whose threshold Dale stood.

Dale entered. What he saw in the room caused him to come out again, his face ashen.

”What's happened?” he demanded hoa.r.s.ely, stepping to the side of the bed and looking down at Peggy.

Peggy told him. The man's face grew gray with the great fear that clutched him, and he stepped back; then came forward again, looking keenly at the girl as though he doubted her.