Part 16 (2/2)
”Two thousand dollars!” Jerry regretted the shocked exclamation as soon as it left her lips. She glanced furtively at Steve. His eyes, clear and clean and s.h.i.+ning from his out-of-door life, disconcertingly direct, met hers. She looked away hastily. ”I'm--I'm not buying jewels now, Peg.”
”You're not! Growing miserly in your old age, Geraldine?” with patronizing surprise. ”You've been talking of that Alexandrite for----”
”Will you ride the range with your ancient brother-in-law this morning, Peg-o'-my-heart?” broke in Courtlandt. ”We'll have lunch at Upper Farm.”
”I'll say I'd love it. Will you come, Jerry?”
”No, I have work to do. Behold your erstwhile humble sister the private secretary of the owner of Double O ranch,” with laughing empress.e.m.e.nt.
”Don't work. Sleep, or ride with Peg,” cut in Steve sharply. ”Remember you were out all night.”
”O King Live Forever!” mocked Geraldine gayly. ”Just as though I hadn't danced all night many a time and ridden in the park all morning. I shall----”
”Pete Glellish tlell you dat Ranlett make bad pidgin in Lower Flield,”
interrupted Ming Soy's soft voice at Courtlandt's elbow. ”He say, 'Hully--hully--hully!'”
Steve sprang from his chair and caromed into Tommy Benson who had just entered the court and stood beaming upon Peggy Glamorgan.
”What, down already, Miss Peg? Methinks
”'This morning, like the spirit of a youth That means to be of note, begins betimes.'
Why the gla.s.sy-eye and furrowed-brow effect, Steve? I hope that you've left me a taste of the honey, Miss Glamorgan?” he reproached as he took his place at the table beside the girl.
”As soon as you've had a bite, Tommy, join me at Lower Field. Bring Peg along. Jerry,” Steve Courtlandt's voice was peremptory, ”remember, no work in the office and if you don't go with Peg and Tommy stay in sight of the ranch-house if you ride. Don't expect me until you see me. I may not be at home to-night.”
He didn't wait for her answer. In his own room he picked up a Colt 45, spun the cylinder, slipped a box of cartridges into his pocket and hurried to the side door. Gerrish, mounted on the big sorrel, held Blue Devil by the bridle. Both horses were prancing nervously, for the parrot, who had climbed to the gutter under the roof, was clucking and calling:
”Gid-dap! Go-long!”
”That bird ought to be shot,” Steve growled as with some difficulty he mounted. ”What's to pay now, Pete, Ranlett?”
”You've got your rope on the right pair of horns this time, Chief. The fences of Lower Field have been cut.”
”Toward the railroad?”
”By cripes, no. Toward the mountains. If 't been the railroad side we might have stood a chance of corralling the Shorthorns, but if they once get into the mountains--Lord-ee, I believe yer uncle'll rise out of his grave an' go after 'em. Them critters was the pride of his life. Ranlett was a low-down dawg to turn a trick like this. Say, do you know anything about thet range-rider at Bear Creek?”
”Why--why--I've spoken to him. You don't suspect him of being in this deal, do you?”
”I ain't suspectin' nothin', but after I'd saw him twice talkin' to Ranlett I sort of got his number.”
”You've got it wrong, then, Pete. I happen to know that the man is white clear through.”
”Well, I ain't shootin' off my mouth careless when I say that the range-rider's got somethin' up his sleeve. It's my best bet there's going to be fifty-seven varieties of h.e.l.l blowin' up round this ranch before we get through. If you ask me, I'll say that the crime-wave that's been lappin' the coast has swashed out here in a flood.”
”But, Pete, it's impossible for rustlers to get away with their old stuff now.”
”You're shoutin', Chief, it sure is, but--they'll find some new ways. I got it doped out your way too, but if it ain't rustlin', what fool thing is that coyote Ranlett up to?”
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