OCR Text |
Show INSTALLMENT FOUR THE STORY SO FAR: Buck Hart, reputed rustler, brother of Sheriff Hart, has been killed, shot in the back. Then Ellen Carey, recently home from school, hears a shot while out for a ride, and meets Calhoun Terry, who tells tier Jim "The men who met you on the mesa say you had a rifle with you." "I always carry a rifle, sheriff, since my life was attempted at Round Top the other day." Terry added with soft-voiced sarcasm: "A precaution that seems necessary." "Like to look at your rifle, if you don't mind." "Help yourself." The ranch manager man-ager waved a hand at the weapon, which hung in its scabbard on the wall. The sheriff broke the gun, took out a shell, and looked at it. He put the cartridge in his pocket. After examining the rifle he replaced it. "Same size shell," he commented. "And a .45-70 Winchester like this." "Maybe the killer borrowed my gun," Terry drawled. "Bullets from the same rifle killed my brother Buck and Tetlow. Both bodies had notes pinned on them in the same handwriting, a warning that this was what happened to cattle cat-tle thieves." "Want a sample of my writing?" Terry asked contemptuously. "I have plenty of them." The sheriff sher-iff fired a swift question. "Where were you when my brother was killed?" "When was he killed?" "It must have been about five o'clock in the morning of the same day you were at Round Top in the afternoon." Tetlow has also been "drygulched." Terry Ter-ry is manager of the Diamond Reverse B ranch, to whom he had sold bis small ranch and has been in ill favor with the small cattlemen and rustlers since. Terry has in fact been accused had ought to. I never did like him. He's too high and mighty for me." He walked toward the hitch-rack to get his horse, but pulled up in his stride to listen to a new voice which had cut into the talk, a clear contralto throbbing with indignant scorn. Ellen had come out to the porch and was standing in the doorway. "Since you don't like him, Yorky, of course he ought to be hanged. He must be the assassin because he didn't want Diamond Reverse B stock stolen and was the man who discovered Jim Tetlow' s body. And if somebody rode up the canyon with him that is sure proof he shot Jim. What more do you need?" Their astonished eyes fixed on her. "I didn't know you liked him, Cousin Ellen," the sheriff said. "Fact is, I hadn't heard you had met him since you came back." She turned on the sheriff eyes bright with resentment. "I don't like him. What's that got to do with it? Isn't there such a thing as fair play? Must he be guilty of murder mur-der just because you want to think he is?" Roan Alford defended himself, a propitiatory smile on his wrinkled, weather-beaten face. "I don't want to think any such a thing, Miss Ellen. El-len. I'd hate to believe it of him. Now take those tracks " Sharply Ellen cut in on him. "All right, take them. He didn't tell who he was with because he thought it might embarrass a girl .to be dragged into a killing like this. He thought " Hart interrupted her. "A girl," he repeated. "What girl you talkin' about?" Her eyes did not falter, though the color had flooded into her cheeks. "I'm talking about myself. I was going to Round Top, and I thought I'd take the Box Canyon way to see the flowers. We met be- Gift 1a R ' B hit k IT of knowing who killed Hart. A shot, presumably by Lee Hart, another brother, broth-er, was taken at him while he was at Round Top. Outspoken against Terry is Jeff Brand. The sheriff has a talk with Terry. a Perhaps it was true she did not like him. Certainly she resented the importance he was taking in her thoughts. CHAPTER IX Hall an hour after Sheriff Hart had declined to stay at the Diamond Reverse B for dinner another visitor arrived in a buckboard. "Hello, Clint!" said Terry. "Just in time for dinner. If you had been a little earlier you might have met the law here." "I met it down the road a bit," said the superintendent of the No, By Joe. "What did Hart want?" "Wanted to arrest me for killing Jim Tetlow, but he was afraid his evidence was a little too thin even for a rustler's court." Ellison was busy getting his cigar started. He said, between puffs: "Tell him to look nearer home. Tell him to check up on which of the thieves have quarreled with his brother and Tetlow." "I wish this could be cleared up, Clint," his companion replied. "We can't afford to have people think we are shooting down men on suspicion. I grant you both of these men were dyed-in-the-wool thieves. We were sure of it. I wouldn't have objected to stringing them to a tree openly. But I don't want Wyoming to think we approve of drygulching men we don't like." Ellison walked to the door, looked around to make sure nobody was near, and decided not to risk speaking speak-ing of what was on his mind just now. "After dinner we'll stroll out into the open where there can't be any eavesdroppers and do our talking there," he said. The midday dinner finished, Terry Ter-ry and his guest strolled out to a corral and leaned against the fence. , "Cal, unless we take the law in , our own hands the big ranches are through," Ellison began abruptly. . "We've all lost money this year, , and we'll lose more next. You know the reasons, well as I do. Short feed, hard winter, and too many rustlers who call themselves ranchmen ranch-men preying on our stock." "Yes," agreed Terry. "And you named the worst last." "I did. We're through, unless we can wipe them out." "How?" asked the Diamond Reverse Re-verse B foreman. "We range over so big a territory and the thieves are so slick we hardly ever catch them." "We know pretty well who they are, don't we?" "A good many of them. That is, we're pretty sure, even when we haven't proof." "What I propose is to bring in a little army of warriors, round . up the known rustlers, and hang them as we sweep through the country. Those we are not sure of we could give orders to leave." Calhoun Terry drummed with his fingertips on the top rail of the fence. "There must be several thousand thou-sand settlers in this district where we operate," he mentioned, "the big majority of them on the side of the little fellow. How big an army are you thinking of bringing in?" "Maybe a hundred men. We would have to keep our plans absolutely ab-solutely secret. My idea is to drop off the train at Jim Creek, where we would arrange to have horses to meet us, then come up through Box Canyon." "If we were seen and eventually somebody would be bound to meet us word would be rushed to Round Top and to every nester within sev- enty-five miles. They would be down on us like swarms of bees." "I would hold prisoner every trav- ; eler we met, no matter who he might be, until we had done the job. The friends of the rustlers would not know until too late. By that time the fear of our vengeance would be in all their hearts. They would accept the situation as a fact accomplished." "We couldn't ask our own riders to go with us. They would be marked men the rest of their lives. Besides, they would not join us to destroy men with whom they have ridden the range and gone to dances. Fact is, as you know, though we no longer employ riders who have stock of their own, a good many of our boys are related to the small ranchers ranch-ers or are friends of some of them." "We would leave them out of it. My idea is to bring in men who have been United States deputy marshals in Texas and Oklahoma. They are tough fighting men, crack shots, and used to running down outlaws." out-laws." Ellison flung oul an impatient impa-tient gesture of protest. "I don't like this any better than you do, Cal. But it's neck meat or nothing. Things have come to such a pass that we have to make our own law. It's forced on us, unless we want to -move out and let the thieves control the country." The plan proposed by the manager man-ager of the No, By Joe meant war. The nesters and the small cattlemen would throw in with the thieves, not because they liked them but as a choice of evils. They felt that the big outfits were their chief enemy. ene-my. A great many men would lose their lives, and he was not sure a clean-up would solve the range troubles. trou-bles. Cal doubted whether the large cattle companies with absentee ownership own-ership were any longer feasible. He shook his head slowly. "I don't believe it can be done, Clint. You can't keep a secret with that many j men in on it. Before we had trav- eled forty miles there would be hell & to pay. Besides, we're not ready yet for anything as drastic as that, j We may win the elections this fall." I (TO BE CONTINUED) I "That's right early. I reckon I was in bed. It's the slack season. I don't have breakfast till about seven." "Can you prove you were in bed?" "No. I expect Jim Wong would testify I ate bacon and eggs and a plate of hot cakes at breakfast two hours later." "Two hours later won't help. Buck was killed, as you know, on the range where your cattle run. You might have ridden out and back." "Your brother must have had early ear-ly business," Terry said significantly. significant-ly. "Leave him out of it," Hart cut back harshly. "I'm talking ol you." The Diamond Reverse B man flung back the challenge Instantly. "I don't like the implication, based on no evidence, that I shoot down men from ambush." The sheriff had not come for a fight. He said grudgingly: "I'm not claiming you shot my brother and Tetlow. I think you know more about it than you have told." "I know nothing whatever about it." "All right. Why couldn't you say so? That's all I want to know for the present." Hart turned to walk out of the room. "Dinner in about half an hour if you care to stay, Mr. Sheriff," he said, with no warmth. It was a custom of the country that any stranger who dropped into J a ranch near mealtime stayed to share it. The officer declined. "Thanks, no. i brought a snack along with me. I'll be hitting the trail." CHAPTER VIII Owing to a broken axle caused by an upset, the stage was nearly two hours late at Black Butte. Sheriff Hart arrived about the same time, and after he had eaten joined the usual forum on the porch of the post-office. post-office. A cowboy whittling on a piece of soft pine asked him wheth-j wheth-j er he was in this neck of the woods on business or for pleasure. "I been over to the Diamond Reverse Re-verse B to have a talk with Cal Terry," Ter-ry," he explained. "What does that curly wolf have to say for himself?" growled Jack Turley. "What you'd expect him to claim, that he knows nothing about the killings." kill-ings." "Just happened to be on the scene by accident with a rifle loaded for bear," Turley said with a jeering laugh. The man had an ugly, lupine face, not improved by a disfigured nose. "He gave a reason for being there. I aim to check up on it." "Would that reason cover the fellow fel-low he had with him too?" the cowboy cow-boy inquired. "Says there was nobody with him," she sheriff replied. Roan Alford spoke. "Cal didn't used to be a fool, not when I knew him. How does he explain the double dou-ble tracks, Nate?" j "Suggests the killer may have come up Box Canyon either before ! or after him, and that the hoofprints just happen to run a parallel course on Johnson's Prong." I "Too thin." It was Turley's harsh voice again. "The tracks ran side by side quite a ways." "Unless he's changed a heap from the Cal Terry I usta know he wouldn't stand for drygulching a man," Alford contributed, chewing a quid of tobacco thoughtfully. Out of sight but close to the window, win-dow, Ellen listened intently. This was not a private conversation, but talk in an open forum for all to hear. Turley's bullying voice took up the thread. "You fellows are too soft. He was on the ground right after the killing and found the body. Later he rode up the canyon with another guy, probably the fellow who fired the shot, and claims he was alone because he dassent give his sidekick's side-kick's name. When seen on the mesa he was carrying a rifle. Put those facts together and it spells guilt." The whittling cowboy closed his jack knife and threw away the piece of pine. He rose and stretched himself. him-self. "I'll say this, boys. Mr. Terry Ter-ry can't get away from that double set of hoofprints. They tie a rope round his neck, or leastways they "Since you don't like him, Yorky, of course he ought to be hanged." low the lower entrance, just after the shot was fired." "How long after?" the sherifl asked. "Oh, soon. I don't know how long." "Three minutes five minutes ten minutes half an hour?" "I tell you I don't know. Only a few minutes." "Just long enough for him to have made sure he had done a good job and then got to the canyon for his getaway," rasped Turley. "Mr. Terry didn't act like a guilty man. He wanted me to examine the rifle to make sure it hadn't just been fired." Hart jumped at that like a terrier at a rat. "Why did he do that? Unless Un-less he was covering up building evidence for himself." "Because of something I said." "And the rifle could you tell if it had just been fired?" "I didn't look." "You didn't see anybody else there at any time?" All of the men were watching Ellen El-len closely. She could see that their interest was keen-edged. This would be talked over at every ranch in the county. People would wonder what she was doing. alone with Calhoun Cal-houn Terry in a canyon so little frequented. fre-quented. "Nobody else," she said. "Before I came out of the canyon the killer had slipped away in the .brush. Mr. Terry rode up the canyon with me because he thought the killer might have slipped into the gorge and he was afraid to have me go alone. He felt I might be in danger, since the assassin couldn't know I had not been a witness." "It knocks out the theory of his having an accomplice there with him," the sheriff said. "I'm much obliged to you, Cousin Ellen, for saving me a lot of work. I won't have to try to run down a fellow that doesn't exist." "There's a point there that tells against Terry, though," Hart added. add-ed. "When he reported finding Jim Tetlow's body that looked like the action of an innocent man. Now we know he was discovered close to the spot and had to frame a story to protect himself." "We don't know any such thing," Ellen differed. "If he is innocent he didn't have to frame a story. All he had to do was to tell the truth. Which is what he did." She turned and walked swiftly into the post-office. As she thought of it later, she did not know whether her story had done him harm or good. |