Part 21 (1/2)
”Yes,” answered the girl, ”of course you had the right. Only I--we--didn't leave it there on purpose. It----”
”It don't make any difference how it come to be there,” he said dully, and as he pa.s.sed his hand heavily across his brow, she saw that his fingers fumbled for a moment on the bandage. ”The news got around right quick. It was only last night.”
”Long Bill Kearney stuck one on the corral post, and he left some at the lambing camp.”
”Long Bill, eh?” The man repeated the name mechanically, with his eyes on the square of paper, while the girl pushed the blankets back and placed dishes upon the table.
”You must eat, now,” she reminded him, as she filled his plate and poured a cup of steaming coffee.
The Texan drew up a chair and ate in silence. When he had finished he rolled a cigarette: ”One hundred dollars,” he said, as though speaking to himself, ”that's a right pickyune reward to offer for a full-grown man. Why, there's over a thousand for Ca.s.s Grimshaw.”
”Ca.s.s Grimshaw is a horse-thief. Apparently, horses are held in higher regard than mere wives.”
Tex disregarded the withering sarcasm. He answered, evenly, ”Looks that way. I suppose they figure a man could steal more of 'em.”
”And now that Purdy has stolen her from you, will you continue the search, or look around for another. Surely, wives are cheap--another hundred dollars oughtn't to make any difference.”
”No. Another hundred won't make any difference. Win Endicott was a fool to post that reward. It makes things look bad----”
”Look bad!” cried the girl, angrily. ”Could it look any worse than it is?”
”No,” agreed the Texan, ”not with Purdy into it, it couldn't.”
”Because, now--he'll probably claim the reward he and Long Bill--and you will have had your trouble for your pains.”
”Claim the reward!” exclaimed the Texan. To the girl's surprise he seemed to grasp at the thought as a drowning man would grasp at a straw.
There was a new light in his eyes and the words seemed to hold a ray of hope. ”Do you suppose he would? Would he hold her safe for a thousand dollars? Prob'ly he'll try to get more!” The man talked rapidly in short jerky sentences. ”How'd Long Bill cross the river? Have those two got together? Does Purdy know about the reward?”
”Long Bill was riding----”
”Purdy's horse?”
”Not the one Purdy rode today--but, I think I've seen Purdy ride that horse.”
”But, why did they go on spreadin' these bills? Why didn't they keep it to themselves?” The girl shook her head, and after a few moments of silence, during which his fists opened and closed as if striving to grasp at the truth, the Texan spoke: ”Maybe if they had the girl hid away safe, they wanted folks to be on the lookout for me.” He pushed back his chair abruptly and as he stood up the girl indicated the blankets, and the package of food.
”Here are blankets,” she said, ”and there is grub for tomorrow. There is a bunk in the loft----”
The Texan gathered the things into his arms: ”Never mind the bunk,” he said, ”I'll sleep in the hay. I'll be wanting an early start. You've helped, girl,” he said looking straight into her eyes, ”you've guessed wrong--but you've helped--maybe more than you know. I reckon Win wasn't such a fool with his reward after all,” and before she could frame a reply, the man had opened the door and disappeared into the night.
CHAPTER XX
AT CINNABAR JOE'S
Along toward the middle of the afternoon Cinnabar Joe laid down his hammer and smilingly accepted the sandwich his wife held out to him.
”You sure don't figure on starvin' me none, Jennie,” he grinned as he bit generously into the thick morsel.
”Ranchin's some different from bartendin'--an' you're workin' awful hard, Joe.” She surveyed the half-completed stable with critical eye: ”Couple more weeks an' it'll be done!” she exclaimed in admiration, ”I didn't know you was so handy. Look over to the house.”
Cinnabar looked: ”Gee! Curtains in the window! Looks like a regular outfit, now.”