Guardians of the Sage (19 page)

“You bet he is! There's only one thing more I want to know.”

“What's that?”

“If the Bar S hasn't been losing stuff, too. If they have, the case against Quantrell is complete. I aim to find out, Dan. I'm going up there in the morning and see the old man himself.”

“Lord sakes, Jim, don't be a fool I” Crockett exclaimed. “Why, if you're caught com in' or goin' you'll have some explainin' to do! It would look like you
were
double-crossin' us, jest as Quantrell has been sayin'. You'd be lucky if you didn't find a rope around your neck!”

“It's a chance, but I'm going to take it. It will mean a lot to you and I reckon it will mean even more to me.”

D
AN CROCKETT tried to dissuade Montana from trying to see old Slick-ear.

“Somethin's sure to happen to you, and I don't want to feel responsible, Jim,” he pleaded. “Suppose we say nothin' fer a day or so about your having seen Quantrell. He may come again.”

“You don't savvy him at all, Dan, if you think that,” Montana disagreed. “I'm on my own in going up the Big Powder. I could have killed Quantrell yesterday and have gone free for it. But that wouldn't satisfy me. I'm going to tumble him into the dust before I step on him. If I can talk to Mr. Stall I can hurry that day along.”

He went back to the Reservation to relieve old Ben for a few hours. Later, without any sleep, he set out for the north. By daylight he was at the forks. He tarried awhile. Nothing had changed since he had last been there. Half an hour later he continued up the Big Powder.

Once well across the Bar S line, he climbed out of the creek bottom and took up a point of vantage where he could command a view of the creek. Cattle were moving in to water. He knew someone would be along shortly. It was safer to wait and hail a man than to walk into trouble. It was his intention to ask for safe conduct to the house.

The morning wore on, however, without bringing anyone. He had been waiting over three hours when he caught the sound of a shod hoof below. The rider crossed a break in the willows. He saw then that it was Letty Stall.

Even though he knew she was in Squaw Valley, meeting her so unexpectedly shook him out of his habitual calm. Unconsciously a sigh escaped him. He had told himself countless times that she was as far removed from him as the stars and quite as unattainable. And yet, mere sight of her was enough to unnerve him.

He hardly supposed her to be alone, two or three miles from the house. He waited, expecting to see a Bar S man ride into the open; but Letty had crossed the break and no one rode after her. It was only a minute before he saw her again.

“Wouldn't think Reb would let her come down this far alone,” he thought. “She still rides well.” Inevitably, memory of their long rides together at Willow Vista came back to him.

Undoubtedly, she would resent his intrusion, but he felt there was too much at stake to hang back. With his heart beating rapidly, he retraced his way to the creek bottom and walked his horse out into the open.

Letty saw him presently. The color left her cheeks as she recognized him. Jim reined in beside her and swept off his hat.

“Ma'am, you shouldn't come down so far. It isn't safe.”

Letty found him thinner than usual, but self-conscious as always in her presence. It pleased her to pretend an aloofness she was far from feeling.

“You are trespassing, not I,” she said, her blue eyes inscrutable. “I didn't know you were making war on women. I thought you were confining yourself to men and cattle and destroying other people's range.”

“I reckon you've got a pretty hard opinion of me,” he murmured unhappily. “Folks don't always see things alike. What I've done I did because I thought it was right. There's been killing and destroying of property on both sides. It hasn't been any of my doing. I know what you folks up here think of me. It isn't so much different down below. I seem to be taking it on two sides.”

“That's the usual fate of martyrs, isn't it?” she queried. “I suppose you realize you might have some trouble explaining your presence here if Reb or the men found you. They have orders to shoot first and inquire afterwards. Something has to be done to stop this rustling.”

She saw him stiffen at the word.

“That's why I am here,” he declared frankly. “I wanted to find out If you were losing stock, too. This fight can be stopped. I've got to see your father, ma'am. If he'll talk to me, something may come of it.”

His sincerity touched her. In the face of all that had happened, she still believed in him, despite her father's enmity.

“He'll not be pleased to see you,” she told him. “He holds you responsible for all his difficulties here in Squaw Valley.”

Montana did not surmise how staunchly she had defended him against her father's attacks, or to what lengths she had gone to remain in the valley.

“I suppose he thinks we are rustling his cattle.”

“Naturally——”

“And down below they think he's getting our stuff. Can't you see how absurd it is? I've got to talk to him, ma'am!”

“He's at the house,” she said. “I can't promise you much, but if you'll tighten my mare's cinch I'll take you to him.”

Jim slipped out of his saddle and helped her down. She felt his hand tremble on her arm. For a moment their eyes met. A sigh escaped her. It would only have taken a word for them to have reached an understanding. But Jim looked away to hide his embarrassment.

“Like old times, isn't it?” she murmured hurriedly. “But then, I don't suppose you ever think of them.”

“I do, ma'am,” he said awkwardly. If she only knew how often he thought of them!

“Letty is my name,” she murmured, her eyes glowing with mischief. “You used to call me Letty—when we were alone.”

Jim gave the cinch a savage tug. He was suffering exquisite torture. Letty suspected it and was happy. A hundred little things told her he loved her and was too shy to say it.

“It's—dangerous down here,” he said. “You don't often ride so far alone, do you?”

“Hardly,” Letty smiled, thinking of the subterfuges she had to use to get out of sight of the house. “Father says I shouldn't be here at all.”

“That's one thing we can agree on,” Jim murmured.

“Oh—you're not glad to see me then?”

“I—I'm awfully happy to see you, Letty. It's just that I don't want you to get into trouble. . . . I knew you were here.”

Letty's eyes sobered as a thought disturbed her.

“Then you've been up before——”

“No. Someone saw you when you came in—beyond the Needles. This is only the second time I've set foot on Bar S range. The other time I—had a few words with Reb.”

“I know about that,” Letty murmured softly. “I love the way you belittle it. I thought it was very brave of you to come over and get that boy, knowing you were apt to be killed.”

“Someone had to come. . . . I don't suppose it set very well with your father.”

Letty laughed lightly.

“You know him too well to make that question necessary,” she said.

“I guess that's so,” Jim answered moodily. “Everything I do seems calculated to make hard feelings between us. After Wild Horse and the trouble here I wasn't any too sure you'd speak to me. I figure a man has to play the game as he sees it. Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing by getting into this fight. Then again, when I see what losing it is going to mean to them, I'm glad I did.”

“I'm afraid they are going to lose,” Letty mused aloud. “Father seems so cocksure lately.”

“He'll find them hard to whip.”

“That's the pity of it, isn't it, Jim?” Her eyes were wistful. “I know the mother of that boy will never forgive us. They must hate us. . . . But there was Billy——”

“They had nothing to do with that, Letty. Billy was murdered. . . . I'll be settling that before long.”

“You know who did it?”

“I know, all right. That's just another reason why I want to see your father. I can set him right about several things.”

Letty was suddenly silent. Jim was conscious of it.

“Maybe you'd like to be going,” he said. “I'll help you up.”

She shook her head.

“Jim—I don't want you to get in trouble over Billy. It would be so easy for something to happen. . . . I couldn't stand that——”

A pleasant feeling of confusion stole through Montana. He could feel the pulse in his throat throbbing violently.

“Reckon nothing's going to happen,” he was finally able to say. “When the showdown comes you couldn't expect me to walk away from it. I'm sorry I mentioned it; but I'm pretty full of this thing.” In an effort to turn the conversation into pleasanter channels he asked about Willow Vista.

“Hasn't changed a bit since you left,” she murmured absent-mindedly. She knew his code; its glorious courage and the quixotic, even absurd, inhibitions it placed on him. Undoubtedly he had said he would avenge Billy. Having said it he would go through with it, regardless of danger, believing his self-respect depended on keeping his word. Nothing she could say would dissuade him.

“You still ride that big
savenna
I broke for you?” he asked.

“I've got him down in California now. I call him Mesquite.”

“He should have developed into quite a horse.”

“He has. We're great pals. In the winter, when I know I'll not be coming back to the desert for months, I get all choked up with loneliness. I tell Mesquite all about it. He seems to understand. Guess he gets lonesome for the high places, too, sometimes. You never get away from this country, so you don't know how homesick the smell of sage-brush can make you. Mr. Tracey shipped me a box full last fall. You should have seen Mesquite's ears stand up when he got a whiff of it.”

Jim decided the conversation had not taken a more pleasant course. The thought of Letty Stall, down in California, surrounded by the luxury her father provided, among cultured men, so unlike himself, made her seem even more remote.

He helped her into her saddle and fell in beside her, stealing sly little glances at her mobile lips and softly curving throat. It was like old times, siding her over the hills. It almost made him forget the serious mission that brought him there.

From across the creek, two men watched them until they passed out of sight. They had been watching Montana for half an hour. The little red-haired one glared at the big man at his side.

“Why'd you knock my gun down, Clay?” he demanded angrily. “I could 'a' picked him off easy!”

“This'll be better, Shorty,” Quantrell replied, venomously. “I said he was a Bar S man—and this proves it! Stuck on that girl, sure as Fate! You saw him moonin' over her, didn't yuh? I call this good!” A puzzled look settled on the big fellow's face. “You know I was only talkin' when I claimed he was still workin' for old man Stall; but I'm damned now if I don't believe I hit the nail on the head! That girl of his was in Wild Horse, and now she shows up in the valley, where a women shouldn't be. What do you make of it if it isn't a case of her father knowin' Montana's soft for her and havin' her on hand to play him for a sucker?”

“Sounds like sense to me,” Shorty agreed.

“It sure is a break for us. We'll go back to about a mile this side of the Forks. You can go up to the house and get the boys. I'll round up Joe Gault and half a dozen others and meet you there on the creek. I want 'em to get an eye-full of this bird on his way down. The way they're feelin' now they'll jerk the air out of that meddlin' fool and we'll be through with him.”

This was cunning that Shorty could appreciate.

“We don't want to lose any time,” Quantrell reminded him. “Can't tell how long he'll be up there.”

When he and Shorty parted he climbed out of the creek bottom and took to the hills. He failed to find Gault at home, but Joe's wife told him he was over at Jubal Stark's ranch. Cursing the delay, Quantrell rode away at a punishing pace. When he reached his destination he was rewarded by finding several others present—Dave Morrow, young Lance and Jubal's brother-in-law, Galen Stroud.

The situation was one made to order for Quantrell. His news came as a bombshell.

“The two-faced skunk!” Jubal bellowed. “I'm fer stringin' him up! All his soft talk about waitin'! You can see what he's after now, can't you? Wanted us to sit still and do nuthin' till they'd plucked us clean!”

All were bitter and expressed themselves accordingly.

“I'm for makin' an example of him,” Gault said. “He's made a fool out of me, for I always had confidence in him; I thought he was right. It's easy to see he's been takin' us over from the start. We better get our horses and ride.”

When they reached the point on the Big Powder where Quantrell and Shorty had parted they found him and the rest of the big fellow's outfit already on hand. Shorty said Montana had not come down the creek.

“We're here in time then,” Quantrell muttered. Back at Stark's place he had let the others do the talking. He was taking the lead now. “We don't know which side of the creek he'll take,” he told them. “Me and the boys will lay out on the other side; you can stay here. He'll be right on us before he smells trouble. Better tie the horses to be sure they won't be moving about to tip him off.”

“Just remember that we want to take him alive,” Stark called out as Quantrell and his men started across the creek. “We ain't agoin' to end this with enythin' as easy on him as a bullet.”

“You said somethin'!” Quantrell rasped. “We got a few things to choke down his throat first.”