Part 6

“It isn’t going to be a hard season on dragons,” smiled the girl. “Unless all signs fail, you are going to have a hard time getting those boots on.”

There was no one else at the ranch. A mocking-bird sang from the patio wall, and a huge pepper tree threw a shade across the two at the well.

“Let’s forget about blistered feet,” said Jimmy Legg. “Tell me about this country, Miss Taylor. I’m a tenderfoot—and, oh so tender just now,” he laughed ruefully. “But I don’t mind. I didn’t know there were girls like you in this country. I’ve read stories of Arizona, where the handsome hero fought forty men, and won the heroine, who was very beautiful. But it doesn’t seem true to me, because I haven’t seen forty men since I came.”

“And there are no beautiful heroines,” she said.

“Well,” smiled Jimmy, “they didn’t have to do any heroic things. They were merely the central figure—some one to do great things for, don’t you see.”

“I suppose so,” smiled the girl. “But forty Arizona men would be rather a handful for one man to whip.”

Jimmy nodded seriously.

“Yes, I suppose a man would have to have quite an incentive.”

“He might start in on one and work his way up,” said a strange voice.

They turned quickly to see Tex Alden, who had come in so softly that they did not hear him. Perhaps they were too engrossed in their own conversation to hear him.

Tex smiled at Marion, but the look he gave Jimmy was anything but friendly.

“Hello Tex,” said Marion. “We didn’t hear you ride up.”

“Naturally.”

Marion ignored his sarcasm.

“Tex Alden, this is Mr. Legg,” she said.

“From the AK,” supplemented Jimmy.

“Runnin’ a dude ranch out there, are they?” Tex did not offer his hand to Jimmy, who did not offer his.

Marion explained how she had lost her horse, and of how she and Jimmy had met in the hills. But Tex could not see any humor in the situation. It was too much of a coincidence to suit him.

“Outside of that,” he said dryly, “I’ve got some bad news for you, Marion. Your father, Buck and Peeler are in jail at Blue Wells.”

“In jail?” Marion stared at Tex. “Why, what for, Tex?”

Tex shrugged his shoulders.

“Robbin’ that train, it seems.”

“But they never robbed that train, Tex!”

“_Quien sabe_. They’re in jail. Between the sheriff and that railroad detective they cooked up some sort of a case against ’em. I didn’t get all of it, but it seems that Olson, Porter and the detective, a man named Wade, came out here to the ranch. During the conversation the detective kicked the dog. Buck bawled him out for it, and the detective asked Buck if it was his dog.

“Buck said it was, it seems. The sheriff asked Buck how long he had owned the dog, and Buck said he raised it. They’ve got the dog in jail, too, holding him until they can get the engineer, fireman and the express messenger here to identify it. From what I can hear, the dog belonged to the bandits.”

Jimmy Legg stared across the patio, his eyes smarting in the bright sunlight.

“Buck never raised that dog,” said Marion hoarsely. “It was a dog that picked up with them—with dad, Buck and Peeler.”

“How long ago?” asked Tex.

“The—” Marion faltered. “It was the day after the robbery that he came here with them, Tex. They had been back on Yellow Horn mesa, looking for cattle. They left the day of the robbery.”

“What kind of a dog was it?” asked Jimmy Legg.

“Just a stray mongrel,” said Marion. “It was coarse-haired and sort of a yellowish-red color.”

There was no question in Jimmy’s mind that this dog was Geronimo.

“Quite a lot of strays comin’ to this country lately,” said Tex Alden, as he looked meaningly at Jimmy.

Jimmy caught the implication, but said nothing. He did not want to have any trouble with Tex Alden.

“I suppose yore father can prove that the dog don’t belong here, can’t he?” asked Tex.

“I don’t see why not,” replied Marion quickly.

“I was just wonderin’, Marion. There’s so many dogs around here that nobody pays much attention to ’em. Anyway, the sheriff says that even if they can prove away the dog, they’ll have to show him where they were the night of the robbery.”

“But they can’t—except their word, Tex. They were back on Yellow Horn mesa, and no one saw them back there.”

Tex smiled.

“Makes it kinda tough. If yo’re aimin’ to ride to Blue Wells, I’ll ride back with yuh.”

Marion looked at Jimmy, who was sitting on the edge of the curb, his sore feet encased in a pair of Buck’s woolen socks.

“I suppose I’ll have to go,” she said slowly. “But I don’t like to leave the ranch alone. If Mr. Legg will stay here until I get back—”

“That won’t hardly do,” said Tex quickly. “You don’t know this man, Marion. We can get some one in Blue Wells—”

“Oh, I don’t mind staying,” said Jimmy earnestly.

“But you can’t stay here with a strange man.”

“I meant—until I got back,” said Marion coldly. “And how long since you started running the Double Bar 8, Tex Alden?”

Tex flushed hotly.

“I’m not tryin’ to run the ranch, Marion.”

“Then don’t. I think Spike is around by the corral; so if you will excuse me, I’ll get him.”

Tex made no effort to get the horse for her, because he wanted a word in private with Jimmy Legg. After she had gone out through the patio gate, Tex turned to Jimmy.

“Let me give you a word of advice, young feller. Yo’re new to this country; so jist take my word for it that we don’t want strangers around. You tramped in here; now tramp out. The climate of the Blue Wells country is sure damp for yore kind.”

“I don’t think I understand what you mean,” said Jimmy. “I’m not a tramp, Mr. Alden.”

“You walked into Blue Wells. Anyway, you told the sheriff yuh did. Ain’t that trampin’?”

Jimmy smiled and shook his head.

“There’s a difference, I think, between a man who merely walks in, and a man who tramps in.”

“Not a —— bit of difference around here, Legg. I’ll probably ride back with Miss Taylor; and I don’t want to find you here. If yo’re wise, you’ll heed what I’m tellin’ yuh. I’ve give yuh a fair warnin’.”

“Reminds me of what Miss Taylor said about rattlesnakes,” said Jimmy innocently. “They nearly always buzz before they strike, it seems. She says that is what makes them less to be feared than any other poisonous snakes.”

Tex stepped in closer to Jimmy, his eyes snapping.

“Do you mean to call me a snake?”

“No; only the warning. And don’t forget, you called me a tramp.”

“If you wasn’t such an ignorant —— fool,” began Tex—but at that moment Marion made her appearance leading the blue-black horse which had left her stranded in the hills, and Tex turned to her, leaving his statement to Jimmy unfinished.

“Mr. Legg won’t be able to stay,” stated Tex. “If you’ll show him which horse to ride back to the AK, Marion—”

“I’ve changed my mind,” said Jimmy, hugging his knees. “I’m going to stay, Miss Taylor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Legg.”

Marion turned away to hide a smile. She realized that Tex had tried to make Jimmy’s decision for him, and she was glad that Jimmy defied him.

Tex glared at Jimmy, but said nothing. Marion waved at Jimmy from the patio gate, but Tex did not turn his head. Marion had little to say to Tex on the way to Blue Wells. He tried to apologize to her for what he had said to Jimmy Legg, but she paid little attention to his excuses. As a result, Tex rode to Blue Wells with a distinct peeve against this stranger.

He left Marion at the doorway of the sheriff’s office, and met Lee Barnhardt a little farther up the street. The lawyer might have ignored Tex’s presence had not Tex stepped in beside him. It was the first time they had met since the day after the hold-up.

“What do yuh know about the arrest of Taylor, Buck and the half-breed?” asked Tex. Barnhardt glanced sidewise at Tex, and a knowing smile twisted his lips.

“I know it’s probably lucky for some folks, Tex. You see, I’ve talked with them, and I’ll probably defend their case; so I haven’t any information to give out.”

“Yea-a-ah?”

“Yea-a-ah,” Barnhardt mimicked Tex’s drawl perfectly, but the expression in Tex’s eyes caused Barnhardt’s Adam’s-apple to jerk convulsively. The lawyer was a physical coward, and Tex knew it; so he grasped Barnhardt by the sleeve, whirled him around and slammed his back against the front of the office.

“—— you!” gritted Tex. “I’ve stood about all I’m goin’ to stand from you, Lee. Yo’re as crooked as a snake in a cactus patch, and we both know it. You told me about that Santa Rita pay-roll, because you wanted yore share. Now, —— yuh—get it, if yuh can!”

Tex stepped back, his eyes narrowed dangerously, as he looked at Barnhardt’s thin face, which twisted to a sneering grin, when he felt sure that Tex was not going to do him bodily harm.

“All right, Tex,” he said hoarsely. “No bad feelings, I hope.”

Tex shook his head slowly.

“I don’t _sabe_ you, Lee,” he said softly. “Mebbe some day I’m goin’ to have to kill you.”

Tex spoke in a matter-of-fact way, as though the killing of Lee Barnhardt would be merely a disagreeable task. Barnhardt smiled crookedly.

“You don’t need to threaten me, Tex,” he said.

“Oh, that’s not a threat.”

Barnhardt straightened his collar.

“You called me a crook,” he remarked. “You can’t prove anything, Tex; but you embezzled eight thousand dollars—and I can prove it.”

“How can yuh? You haven’t the bill of sale, nor a copy of it. You had nothing to do with the sale. The check was made out to me.”

“All right,” Barnhardt laughed shortly. “In two weeks the Fall round-up will be held, Tex. There’s going to be a shortage of X Bar 6 stock to account for. My report will show this, and I’ll have to explain just what happened—unless—”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you shoot square with me, Tex.”

“In other words,” said Tex coldly, “if I’ll play a crooked game with you, you’ll protect me, eh?”

“You don’t need to be so —— virtuous!” snapped Barnhardt. “You’re in pretty deep already. And any time I want to, I can cut you loose from your present job. Don’t forget that I can do you a lot of harm, if I want to, Tex. One of these days that X Bar 6 is going to be mine.”

“Yea-a-ah? How do yuh figure that, Lee?”

“That’s my business. You think things over, Tex.”

Tex nodded shortly.

“All right. What kind of a case have they got against Taylor?”

“I don’t know. That Wade, the railroad detective, seems to think the dog links ’em pretty close to the case, but he’s got to wait until the engine crew and the messenger identify the dog as being the one that was on the express car.”

“Marion says it’s a dog that picked up with them the day after the hold-up. I don’t remember any such a dog around the Double Bar 8.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about it, do you?”

“Why not? I expect to marry Taylor’s daughter.”

“Well? She’s not under arrest. You better look out for Le Moyne, Tex. He’s got the same ideas that you have, and I understand that Apostle Paul thinks a lot of Le Moyne.”

“Le Moyne don’t interest me, Lee.”

“Sure he don’t. But he don’t have to interest you. Le Moyne is a handsome devil, and if I was in your boots—”

“Well, you’re not!” Tex flushed angrily. “I’ve got to help Marion find some woman to stay at the ranch with her. She can’t stay there alone. That —— tenderfoot from the AK was there when I left. His horse pitched him off in the hills, and he wore his feet out walkin’ to the Double Bar 8.”

“His name is Legg, isn’t it?” queried Barnhardt.

“Yeah.”

“What else do you know about him, Tex?”

“Not a thing—do you?”

“Only what Johnny Grant said. Legg told him that he used to be a bookkeeper in San Francisco.”

“Yeah? Well, he better go back and sling some more ink.”

Barnhardt smiled slowly.

“And he’s staying at the Double Bar 8, is he?”

“Not very —— long, he ain’t!” snapped Tex.

He whirled on his heel and looked down toward the sheriff’s office, where Marion was just coming out, accompanied by the sheriff.

“How long before they can identify that dog, Lee?” he asked.

“When the train gets in tonight, Tex.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll see yuh later, Lee.”

“All right; and in the meantime you better think over some of the things I’ve told you.”

But Tex did not reply. Marion had mounted her horse. Tex called to her, but she did not reply, as she spurred her horse to a gallop, heading toward home. Tex swore softly and went on, joining the sheriff at the doorway of the office.

“Hyah, Tex,” greeted the sheriff.

“All right, Scotty,” grunted Tex. “Mind lettin’ me see the Taylor family?”

The sheriff shook his head.

“Can’t do it, Tex. I’ve got my orders from the prosecutor. After t’night, yuh maybe can; but no chance, until after we know a little more about things.”

Tex scowled heavily.

“What evidence have yuh got, Scotty?”

“Dog. Answers the description.”

“Yea-a-ah?”

Tex leaned one shoulder against the wall of the building and began rolling a cigaret. He looked quizzically at the sheriff as he said—

“Scotty, did yuh ever wonder why them three men locked yuh in yore own jail?”

The sheriff considered the question gravely, as if it had never occurred to him before. He smiled softly and shook his head.

“No; did you, Tex?”

“It’s none of my business, Scotty.”

“No? You don’t think Eskimo, Johnny and Oyster had anythin’ to do with the hold-up, do yuh?”

“I didn’t say they did, Scotty.”

“There was four men in that hold-up. Old George Bonnette was in Blue Wells that night. They’d ’a’ had to get an outsider to help ’em, Tex. We’ve got to find four men.”

“But there’s only three in yore jail right now, Scotty.”

“Yeah; there’s still the owner of the dog.”

“Then yuh don’t think the dog belongs to Taylor?”

“No, I don’t. The man who owns the dog is the man who got on the express car at Encinas, and fought with the messenger. The dog was just a blind for that man to get on there. He was the fourth one of the gang, and he probably didn’t figure on the messenger puttin’ up a fight. He caught up with the express car as quick as possible and took the dog. The fact that he took a chance to get the dog makes it look like a cinch that if we can find the owner of that dog, we can land the whole bunch.”

It was a long explanation for Scotty Olson, and he was all out of breath.

“How about that feller Legg, at the AK, Scotty? He’d make a fourth man.”

“Him!” Scotty laughed. “Which man would he make? Not the big feller that fought the messenger. And —— knows he ain’t one of the masked men that blew the safe.”

“Don’t be too sure. He’d look pretty —— big behind a black mask, looking over the top of a six-gun. That engine crew was so —— scared they wouldn’t have known whether they were big men or small ones.”

“How do you know how scared they was, Tex?”

The sheriff snapped the question quickly. Tex stiffened slightly and his shoulder swayed away from the wall.

“Just figurin’ ’em to be human,” he said softly.

“Oh, yeah.” The sheriff’s smile was hidden behind his big mustache. “I reckon we’ll get along all right. It takes time to figure out things, Tex. Wade’s no fool. He’s investigatin’ every clue—him and Porter. I understand that the Santa Rita has hired a detective. Him and Le Moyne are on the case, kinda workin’ independent of my office, I suppose.” Scotty smiled. “But that’s all right. We want the men who got that thirty thousand.”

Tex nodded coldly.

“Good luck to yuh, Scotty. But if I was you, I wouldn’t look for them men in Blue Wells. They’re a —— of a long ways from here, I’ll betcha.”

“I’m no —— palmist,” said Scotty slowly. “If they’re out of the county I can’t do nothin’, but if they’re around here, I’m goin’ after ’em good and hard.”

“Sure,” nodded Tex, and went after his horse, while the sheriff looked after him quizzically.

“I wonder what you know, Tex Alden,” he said to himself. “I seen yuh talkin’ with Lee Barnhardt—and he’ll prob’ly defend Taylor, if this comes to court. By golly, I’m gettin’ suspicious of everybody. Wade says you’ve got to suspect everybody, if yo’re goin’ to be a successful detective; so I expect I’m startin’ out in the right way.”

VIII—A REGULAR JOB

It was supper time at the AK ranch when Jimmy Legg rode in. The boys had discovered his horse when they returned, and had decided that Jimmy had been thrown. They were going to wait until after supper before starting a search.

He told them of the incident and of the long walk to the Double Bar 8 ranch.

“Didja leave that girl alone there?” asked Eskimo.

“She went back to town,” explained Jimmy. “I guess she wanted to be there when the railroad men tried to identify that dog, and she said she’d stay in Blue Wells all night.”

“I’d kinda like to be there too,” said Johnny Grant. “I’ve been at the Taylor ranch quite a lot, but I don’t remember any dog of that description.”

“Let’s all go in after supper,” suggested Oyster. “I’ve got a few dollars that’s restless.”

Old George Bonnette called Jimmy aside after supper.

“What do yuh aim to do?” asked the old man.

Jimmy smiled foolishly.

“I kinda wanted to be a cowpuncher,” he confessed, lapsing into the dialect easily.

“Yuh do, eh?” Bonnette smiled. “That’s quite an ambition, don’tcha think? Forty a month, and feed. Yo’re educated, Legg. I don’t _sabe_ why yuh want to be a puncher.”

“I’ve got a reason, Mr. Bonnette.”

“Some girl dare yuh to be a cowboy?”

“There’s a woman in the case,” confessed Jimmy.

Bonnette grunted softly and helped himself to a liberal chew of tobacco.

“I thought as much,” he grinned. “Well, you ain’t—yet. I’m full-up on hired hands right now, Legg. It’ll soon be round-up time, and yuh might come in handy.

“It’ll mean a —— of a lot of hard work. I can’t pay yuh a cowpuncher’s wages, because yuh don’t _sabe_ the work well enough to earn it; but I’ll pay yuh half-salary. It’ll sure as —— be an education to you, if yuh want to be a puncher. But I’m —— if I know why yuh want to.”

“Thanks,” smiled Jimmy. “Johnny Grant asked you to do this, didn’t he?”

“Well, he said yuh was jist brainless enough to make a good puncher, if that’s what yuh mean.”

“Don’t cowpunchers have any brains, Mr. Bonnette?”

“Huh!” The old man spat explosively. “Evidence is all agin’ ’em! If they had any brains, they wouldn’t punch cows.”

Jimmy thanked him for the half-pay job, and rode away with the three cowpunchers, after Bonnette had warned them not to antagonize the sheriff again.

“Yo’re gettin’ a bad reputation,” declared Bonnette. “Next thing I know I’ll have some cripples hobblin’ around here.”

“We’re plumb antiseptic now,” assured Johnny Grant. “There ain’t money enough in the crowd to start anythin’.”

They headed for town, talking about the robbery. None of them had told Jimmy about their battle with the engineer and fireman. The AK boys were tight-mouthed over it, because they didn’t want to be hauled in on the case, and they were just a little suspicious about Jimmy Legg.

Near where the AK road paralleled the railroad, it intersected with the road from Encinas, and as they neared the intersection they saw two riders coming from the east, jogging along through the dust, as if time was of no importance.

The four riders from the AK drew rein and waited for the two cowboys, thinking them to be two of the Blue Wells riders. But in this they were mistaken, as the two riders were strangers to the country.

One of them was a lean, rangy sort of individual, with a long face, prominent nose, wide mouth, and widely spaced blue eyes, set in a mass of tiny wrinkles. The other rider was of medium height, rather blocky of countenance, wide-mouthed, and with deep grin-wrinkles, which seemed to end beneath a firm jaw. His eyes were wide, blue and innocent.

Both men were dressed in range costume, well-worn, weathered. Their riding rigs were polished from much usage, and the boys from the AK noted that their belts and holsters were hand-made by men who knew the sag of human anatomy. The tall man removed his battered sombrero, disclosing a crop of roan-colored hair, and the wide grin, which suffused his whole face, showed a set of strong, white teeth.

“Howdy,” smiled the tall man. “Is this the road to Blue Wells?”

“It sure is,” grinned Johnny. He instinctively liked this tall man, whose grin was contagious.

“Well, that’s good,” nodded the shorter man.

Johnny Grant’s eyes had strayed to their two horses, which were branded on the left shoulder with a Circle X, the iron of a ranch about twelve miles east of Encinas.

“We’re goin’ to Blue Wells,” said Eskimo, “and we’ll see that yuh don’t stray.”

“That’s sure kind of yuh,” said the innocent-eyed one. “You don’t know what a load that takes off my mind.”

Eskimo squinted closely at him, but could not determine whether the man was joking or not. Johnny Grant moved his horse in closer.

“My name’s Grant,” he told them.

He turned in his saddle and introduced the others, concluding with Jimmy Legg, of whom he said:

“This is Jimmy Legg. He wants to be a cowpuncher so badly that he don’t know what to do—and we’re teachin’ him.”

“I’m sure he’ll make a good one,” said the innocent-eyed stranger, sizing up the uncomfortable Jimmy. “Yuh can’t hardly tell him from one now. If yuh hadn’t told us about him, we’d never know but what he was a top-hand. My name is Stevens. My pardner answers to the name of Hartley, and we’re proud to know you gents.”

“Proud to know you,” nodded the boys of the AK.

“We might as well mosey along,” said Johnny. “You aimin’ to stay in Blue Wells a while, gents?”

“All depends,” said “Hashknife” Hartley. “We hear that the Fall round-up is about to start, and thought we might hook on with some cow-outfit. We ain’t never been in here, yuh see.”

“Well, yuh might,” admitted Johnny. “I dunno how the rest of the ranches are fixed for help.”

“Does anythin’ ever happen around here?” asked “Sleepy” Stevens. “You know what I mean—any excitement?”

“Everythin’ happens,” said Eskimo, and they proceeded to regale them with a story of the robbery.

Johnny Grant went into details regarding the dog, which figured in the evidence, and by the time they got to Blue Wells, Hashknife and Sleepy knew practically all the details, as far as was known.

“We’d know more about it when the train gets in,” said Oyster. “Them trainmen say they can identify the dog, if it’s the same one.”

They rode in to Blue Wells, and tied their horses at the Oasis hitch-rack. Hashknife and Sleepy went to the Oasis hotel, where they secured a room, after which they took their horses to the livery-stable.

Quite a crowd of people had gathered in Blue Wells, waiting for the train to come in. There was much speculation as to whether or not the trainmen could identify the dog as being the one on the express car. Tex Alden was in town, as was Le Moyne. Johnny Grant pointed out Le Moyne, and introduced Hashknife to Tex.

Hashknife did not strike Tex for a job, but merely exchanged a few words with him. They met the sheriff in the Oasis, and Johnny introduced him to Hashknife. But the sheriff was not friendly, and Johnny explained the reasons why. They found Al Porter and Wade, the railroad detective, but Porter gave Johnny a wide berth. He could see that Johnny had imbibed a few drinks, and Mr. Porter did not want his dignity disturbed.

The train arrived on time, and the crowd repaired to the hall over Abe Moon’s store, which was used as a courtroom. Jimmy Legg had imbibed a large drink of liquor, which had caused him to forget certain things, and as a result he found himself in the hall, almost rubbing shoulders with the express messenger.

The sheriff ordered every one to sit down and not to interfere with the proceedings. He brought Apostle Paul Taylor, Buck Taylor and Peeler into the room and seated them against the wall. The half-breed was frightened, but the Taylor family were cool. Marion was there, and joined her father. Hashknife and Sleepy remained in the background, watching the proceedings.

Al Porter, the deputy, brought the dog into the room, a short piece of rope tied to its collar. It was Geronimo! Jimmy Legg gasped, drew his hat farther over his face and acted indifferent.