Part 49 (1/2)

”Ahuh! I reckon it would,” replied Wade, with his head bowed. Moore roused his gloomy forebodings. He did not care to show this feeling or the effect the cowboy's pleading had upon him.

”Ah! so you admit it? Well, then, what of Collie?”

”_If_ she marries him--she'll have to die, I suppose,” replied Wade.

Then Wilson Moore leaped at his friend and with ungentle hands lifted him, pushed him erect.

”d.a.m.n you, Wade! You're not square with me! You don't tell me all!” he cried, hoa.r.s.ely.

”Now, Wils, you're set up. I've told you all I know. I swear that.”

”But you couldn't stand the thought of Collie dying for that brute! You couldn't! Oh, I know. I can feel some things that are hard to tell. So, you're either out of your head or you've something up your sleeve. It's hard to explain how you affect me. One minute I'm ready to choke you for that d.a.m.ned strangeness--whatever it is. The next minute I feel it--I trust it, myself.... Wade, you're not--you _can't_ be infallible!”

”I'm only a man, Wils, an' your friend. I reckon you do find me queer.

But that's no matter. Now let's look at this deal--each from his own side of the fence. An' each actin' up to his own lights! You do what your conscience dictates, always thinkin' of Collie--not of yourself!

An' I'll live up to my principles. Can we do more?”

”No, indeed, Wade, we can't,” replied Moore, eloquently.

”Well, then, here's my hand. I've talked too much, I reckon. An' the time for talkin' is past.”

In silence Moore gripped the hand held out to him, trying to read Wade's mind, apparently once more uplifted and strengthened by that which he could not divine.

Wade's observations during the following week brought forth the fact that Jack Belllounds was not letting any gra.s.s grow under his feet. He endeavored to fulfil his agreement with Smith, and drove a number of cattle by moonlight. These were part of the stock that the rancher had sold to buyers at Kremmling, and which had been collected and held in the big, fenced pasture down the valley next to the Andrews ranch. The loss was not discovered until the cattle had been counted at Kremmling.

Then they were credited to loss by straying. In driving a considerable herd of half-wild steers, with an inadequate force of cowboys, it was no unusual thing to lose a number.

Wade, however, was in possession of the facts not later than the day after this midnight steal in the moonlight. He was forced to acknowledge that no one would have believed it possible for Jack Belllounds to perform a feat which might well have been difficult for the best of cowboys. But Jack accomplished it and got back home before daylight. And Wade was bound to admit that circ.u.mstantial evidence against Wilson Moore, which, of course, Jack Belllounds would soon present, would be d.a.m.ning and apparently irrefutable.

Waiting for further developments, Wade closely watched the ranch-house, which duty interfered with his attention to the outlying trails. What he did not want to miss was being present when Jack Belllounds accused Wilson Moore of rustling cattle.

So it chanced that Wade was chatting with the cowboys one Sunday afternoon when Jack, accompanied by three strangers, all mounted on dusty, tired horses, rode up to the porch and dismounted.

Lem Billings manifested unusual excitement.

”Montana, ain't thet Sheriff Burley from Kremmlin'?” he queried.

”Sh.o.r.e looks like him.... Yep, thet's him. Now, what's doin'?”

The cowboys exchanged curious glances, and then turned to Wade.

”Bent, what do you make of thet?” asked Lem, as he waved his hand toward the house. ”Buster Jack ridin' up with Sheriff Burley.”

The rancher, Belllounds, who was on the porch, greeted the visitors, and then they all went into the house.

”Boys, it's what I've been lookin' for,” replied Wade.

”Sh.o.r.e. Reckon we all have idees. An' if my idee is correct I'm agoin'

to git pretty d.a.m.n sore p.r.o.nto,” declared Lem.