CHAPTER XVI
BLUFF
He found no dance in progress, however, but in the otherwise emptyeating place, which Sally owned and ran with her two capable hands andthe assistance of a cook, sat Sally herself dining at the same tablewith the tenderfoot, the flirt, the horse-breaker, the tamer ofgun-fighters.
Nash stood in the shadow of the doorway watching that lean, handsomeface with the suggestion of mockery in the eyes and the trace ofsternness around the thin lips. Not a formidable figure by any means,but since his experiences of the past few days, Nash was grown extremelythoughtful.
What he finally thought he caught in this most unusual tenderfoot was acertain alertness of a more or less hair-trigger variety. Even now as hesat at ease at the table, one elbow resting lightly upon it, apparentlyenwrapped in the converse of Sally Fortune, Nash had a consciousnessthat the other might be on his feet and in the most distant part of theroom within a second.
What he noted in the second instant of his observation was that Sallywas not at all loath to waste her time on the stranger. She was eatingwith a truly formidable conventionality of manner, and a certain gracewith which she raised the ponderous coffee cup, made of crockeryguaranteed to resist all falls, struck awe through the heart of thecowpuncher. She was bent on another conquest, beyond all doubt, and thatshe would not make it never entered the thoughts of Nash. He set hisface to banish a natural scowl and advanced with a good-natured smileinto the room.
"Hello!" he called.
"It's old Steve!" sang out Sally, and whirling from her chair, sheadvanced almost at a run to meet him, caught him by both hands, and ledhim to a table next to that at which she had been sitting.
It was as gracefully done as if she had been welcoming a brother, butNash, knowing Sally, understood perfectly that it was only a play toimpress the eye of Bard. Nevertheless he was forced to accept it in goodpart.
"My old pal, Steve Nash," said Sally, "and this is Mr. Anthony Bard."
Just the faintest accent fell on the "Mr.," but it made Steve wince. Herose and shook hands gravely with the tenderfoot.
"I stopped at Butler's place down the street," he said, "and beenhearin' a pile about a little play you made a while ago. It was abouttime for somebody to call old Butch's bluff."
"Bluff?" cried Sally indignantly.
"Bluff?" queried Bard, with a slight raising of the eyebrows.
"Sure--bluff. Butch wasn't any more dangerous than a cat with trimmedclaws. But I guess you seen that?"
He settled down easily in his chair just as Sally resumed her placeopposite Bard.
"Steve," she said, with a quiet venom, "that bluff of his has been asgood as four-of-a-kind with you for a long time. I never seen you makeany play at Butch."
He returned amiably: "Like to sit here and have a nice social chat,Sally, but I got to be gettin' back to the ranch, and in the meantime,I'm sure hungry."
At the reminder of business a green light came in the fine blue eyes ofSally. They were her only really fine features, for the nose tilted anengaging trifle, the mouth was a little too generous, the chin so strongthat it gave, in moments of passivity, an air of sternness to her face.That sternness was exaggerated as she rose, keeping her glare fixed uponNash; a thing impossible for him to bear, so he lowered his eyes andengaged in rolling a cigarette. She turned back toward Bard.
"Sorry I got to go--before I finished eating--but business is business."
"And sometimes," suggested Bard, "a bore."
It was an excellent opening for a quarrel, but Nash was rememberingreligiously a certain thousand dollars, and also a gesture of WilliamDrew when he seemed to be breaking an imaginary twig. So he merelylighted his cigarette and seemed to have heard nothing.
"The whole town," he remarked casually, "seems scared stiff by thisButch; but of course he ain't comin' back to-night."
"I suppose," said the tenderfoot, after a cold pause, "that he willnot."
But the coldness reacted like the most genial warmth upon Nash. He hadchosen a part detestable to him but necessary to his business. He mustbe a "gabber" for the nonce, a free talker, a chatterer, who would coverup all pauses.
"Kind of strange to ride into a dark town like this," he began, "but Icould tell you a story about--"
"Oh, Steve," called the voice of Sally from the kitchen.
He rose and nodded to Bard.
"'Scuse me, I'll be back in a minute."
"Thanks," answered the other, with a somewhat grim emphasis.
In the kitchen Sally spoke without prelude. "What deviltry are you up tonow, Steve?"
"Me?" he repeated with eyes widened by innocence. "What d'you mean,Sally?"
"Don't four-flush me, Steve."
"Is eating in your place deviltry?"
"Am I blind?" she answered hotly. "Have I got spring-halt, maybe? You'retoo polite, Steve; I can always tell when you're on the way to a littlebell of your own making, by the way you get sort of kind and warmed up.What is it now?"
"Kiss me, Sally, and I'll tell you why I came to town."
She said with a touch of colour: "I'll see you--" and then changingquickly, she slipped inside his ready arms with a smile and tilted upher face.
"Now what is it, Steve?"
"This," he answered.
"What d'you mean?"
"You know me, Sally. I've worn out the other ways of raising hell, so Ithought I'd start a little by coming to Eldara to kiss you."
Her open hand cracked sharply twice on his lean face and she was out ofhis arms. He followed, laughing, but she armed herself with a red-hotfrying pan and defied him.
"You ain't even a good sport, Steve. I'm done with you! Kiss you?"
He said calmly: "I see the hell is startin', all right."
But she changed at once, and smiled up to him.
"I can't stay mad at you, Steve. I s'pose it's because of your nerve. Iwant you to do something for me."
"What?"
"Is that a way to take it! I've asked you a favour, Steve."
He said suspiciously: "It's got something to do with the tenderfoot inthe room out there?"
It was a palpable hit, for she coloured sharply. Then she took the bullby the horns.
"What if it is?"
"Sally, d'you mean to say you've fallen for that cheap line of lingo hepasses out?"
"Steve, don't try to kid me."
"Why, you know who he is, don't you?"
"Sure; Anthony Bard."
"And do you know who Anthony Bard is?"
"Well?" she asked with some anxiety.
"Well, if you don't know you can find out. That's what the last girldone."
She wavered, and then blinked her eyes as if she were resolved to shutout the truth.
"I asked you to do me a favour, Steve."
"And I will. You know that."
"I want you to see that Bard gets safe out of this town."
"Sure. Nothing I'd rather do."
She tilted her head a little to one side and regarded him wistfully.
"Are you double-crossin' me, Steve?"
"Why d'you suspect me? Haven't I said I'd do it?"
"But you said it too easy."
The gentleness died in her face. She said sternly: "If you dodouble-cross me, you'll find I'm about as hard as any man on the range.Get me?"
"Shake."
Their hands met. After all, he did not guarantee what would happen tothe tenderfoot after they were clear of the town. But perhaps this was adistinction a little too fine for the downright mind of the girl. A seaof troubles besieged the mind of Nash.
And to let that sea subside he wandered back to the eating room andfound the tenderfoot finishing his coffee. The latter kept an eye offrank suspicion upon him. So the silence held for a brooding moment,until Bard asked: "D'you know the way to the ranch of William Drew?"
It was a puzzler to Nash. Was not that his job, to go out and bring theman to Drew's place? Here he was already on the way. He remembered justin time that the
manner of bringing was decidedly qualified.
He said aloud: "The way? Sure; I work on Drew's place."
"Really!"
"Yep; foreman."
"You don't happen to be going back that way to-night?"
"Not all the way; part of it."
"Mind if I went along?"
"Nobody to keep you from it," said the cowpuncher without enthusiasm.
"By the way, what sort of a man is Drew?"
"Don't you know him?"
"No. The reason I want to see him is because I want to get the right todo some--er--fishing and hunting on a place of his on the other side ofthe range."
"The place with the old house on it; the place Logan is?"
"Exactly. Also I wish to see Logan again. I've got several little thingsI'd like to have him explain."
"H-m!" grunted Nash without apparent interest.
"And Drew?"
"He's a big feller; big and grey."
"Ah-h-h," said the other, and drew in his breath, as though he weredrinking.
It seemed to Nash that he had never seen such an unpleasant smile.
"You'll get what you want out of Drew. He's generous."
"I hope so," nodded the other, with far-off eyes. "I've got a lot to askof him."