The Ranchman

  CHAPTER VI--A MAN MAKES PLANS

  Within an hour after his arrival in Dawes, Carrington was sitting in thebig front room of his suite in the Castle Hotel, inspecting the town.

  A bay window projected over the sidewalk, and from a big leather chairplaced almost in the center of the bay between two windows and facing athird, at the front, Carrington had a remarkably good view of the town.

  Dawes was a thriving center of activity, with reasons for itsprosperity. Walking toward the Castle from the railroad station,Carrington had caught a glimpse of the big dam blocking the constrictedneck of a wide basin west of the town--and farther westward stretched avast agricultural section, level as a floor, with a carpet of greenslumbering in the white sunlight, and dotted with young trees thatseemed almost ready to bear.

  There were many small buildings on the big level, some tenthouses, andstraight through the level was a wide, sparkling stream of water, withother and smaller streams intersecting it. These streams were irrigationditches, and the moisture in them was giving life to a vast section ofcountry that had previously been arid and dead.

  But Carrington's interest had not been so much for the land as for themethod of irrigation. To be sure, he had not stopped long to look, buthe had comprehended the system at a glance. There were locks and flumesand water-gates, and plenty of water. But the irrigation company had notcompleted its system. Carrington intended to complete it.

  Dawes was two years old, and it had the appearance of having beenhastily constructed. Its buildings were mostly of frame--even theCastle, large and pretentious, and the town's aristocrat of hostelries,was of frame. Carrington smiled, for later, when he had got himselfestablished, he intended to introduce an innovation in buildingmaterial.

  The courthouse was a frame structure. It was directly across the streetfrom the Castle, and Carrington could look into its windows and see somemen at work inside at desks. He had no interest in the post office, forthat was of the national government--and yet, perhaps, after a while hemight take some interest in that.

  For Carrington's vision, though selfish, was broad. A multitude of menof the Carrington type have taken bold positions in the eternal battlefor progress, and all have contributed something toward the ultimateideal. And not all have been scoundrels.

  Carrington's vision, however, was blurred by the mote of greed. Daweswas flourishing; he intended to modernize it, but in the process ofmodernization he intended to be the chief recipient of the materialprofits.

  Carrington had washed, shaved himself, and changed his clothes; and ashe sat in the big leather chair in the bay, overlooking the street, helooked smooth, sleek, and capable.

  He had seemed massive in the Pullman, wearing a traveling suit of somelight material, and his corpulent waist-line had been somewhataccentuated.

  The blue serge suit he wore now made a startling change in hisappearance. It made his shoulders seem broader; it made the wide,swelling arch of his chest more pronounced, and in inverse ratio itcontracted the corpulent waist-line--almost eliminating it.

  Carrington looked to be what he was--a big, virile, magnetic giant of aman in perfect health.

  He had not been sitting in the leather chair for more than fifteenminutes when there came a knock on a door behind him.

  "Come!" he commanded.

  A tall man entered, closed the door behind him and with hat in handstood looking at Carrington with a half-smile which might have beenslightly diffident, or impudent or defiant--it was puzzling.

  Carrington had twisted in his chair to get a glimpse of his visitor; henow grunted, resumed his former position and said, gruffly:

  "Hello, Danforth!"

  Danforth stepped over to the bay, and without invitation drew up a chairand seated himself near Carrington.

  Danforth was slender, big-framed, and sinewy. His shoulders were broadand his waist slim. There was a stubborn thrust to his chin; his nosewas a trifle too long to perfectly fit his face; his mouth a little toobig, and the lips too thin. The nose had a slight droop that made onethink of selfishness and greed, and the thin lips, with a downwardswerve at the corners, suggested cruelty.

  These defects, however, were not prominent, for they were offset by areally distinguished head with a mass of short, curly hair that ruffledattractively under the brim of the felt hat he wore.

  The hat was in his right hand, now, but it had left its impress on hishair, and as he sat down he ran his free hand through it. Danforth knewwhere his attractions were.

  He grinned shallowly at Carrington when the latter turned and looked athim.

  He cleared his throat. "I suppose you've heard about it?"

  "I couldn't help hearing." Carrington scowled at the other. "What inhell was wrong? We send you out here, give you more than a year's timeand all the money you want--which has been plenty--and then you lose.What in the devil was the matter?"

  "Too much Taylor," smirked the other.

  "But what else?"

  "Nothing else--just Taylor."

  Carrington exclaimed profanely.

  "Why, the man didn't even know he was a candidate! He was on the train Icame in on!"

  "It was Neil Norton's scheme," explained Danforth. "I had _him_ beatento a frazzle. I suppose he knew it. Two days before election he suddenlywithdrew his name and substituted Taylor's. You know what happened. Helicked me two to one. He was too popular for me--damn him!

  "Norton owns a newspaper here--the only one in the county--the _Eagle_."

  "Why didn't you buy him?"

  Danforth grinned sarcastically: "I didn't feel that reckless."

  "Honest, eh?"

  Carrington rested his chin in the palm of his right hand and scowledinto the street. He was convinced that Danforth had done everything hecould to win the election, and he was bitterly chagrined over theresult. But that result was not the dominating thought in his mind. Hekept seeing Taylor as the latter had stood on the station platform,stunned with surprise over the knowledge that he had been so signallyhonored by the people of Dawes.

  And Carrington had seen Marion Harlan's glances at the man; he had beenaware of the admiring smile she had given Taylor; and bitter passiongripped Carrington at the recollection of the smile.

  More--he had seen Taylor's face when the girl had smiled. The smile hadthrilled Taylor--it had held promise for him, and Carrington knew it.

  Carrington continued to stare out into the street. Danforth watched himfurtively, in silence.

  At last, not opening his lips, Carrington spoke:

  "Tell me about this man, Taylor."

  "Taylor owns the Arrow ranch, in the basin south of here. His ranchcovers about twenty thousand acres. He has a clear title.

  "According to report, he employs about thirty men. They are holyterrors--that is, they are what is called 'hard cases,' though they arenot outlaws by any means. Just a devil-may-care bunch that raises hellwhen it strikes town. They swear by Taylor."

  So far as Carrington could see, everybody in Dawes swore by Taylor.Carrington grimaced.

  "That isn't what I want to know," he flared. "How long has he been here;what kind of a fellow is he?"

  "Taylor owned the Arrow before Dawes was founded. When the railroad camethrough it brought with it some land-sharks that tried to frame up onthe ranch-owners in the vicinity. It was a slick scheme, they tell me.They had clouded every title, and figured to grab the whole county, itseems.

  "Taylor went after them. People I've talked with here say it was a dandyshindy while it lasted. The land-grabbers brought the courts in, and acrooked judge. Taylor fought them, crooked judge and all, to abite-the-dust finish. Toward the end it was a free-for-all--and theland-grabbers were chased out of the county.

  "Naturally, the folks around here think a lot of Taylor for the part heplayed in the deal. Besides that, he's a man that makes friendsquickly--and holds them."

  "Has Taylor any interests besides his ranch?"

  "A share in the water company, I believe. He owns some land in
town; andhe is usually on all the public committees here."

  "About thirty, isn't he?"

  "Twenty-eight."

  Carrington looked at the other with a sidelong, sneering grin:

  "Have any ladies come into his young life?"

  Danforth snickered. "You've got me--I hadn't inquired. He doesn't seemto be much of a ladies' man, though, I take it. Doesn't seem to havetime to monkey with them."

  "H-m!" Carrington's lips went into a pout as he stared straight ahead ofhim.

  Danforth at last broke a long silence with:

  "Well, we got licked, all right. What's going to happen now? Are yougoing to quit?"

  "Quit?" Carrington snapped the word at the other, his eyes flaming withrage. Then he laughed, mirthlessly, resuming: "This defeat wasunexpected; I wasn't set for it. But it won't alter things--very much.I'll have to shake a leg, that's all. What time does the next trainleave here for the capital?"

  "At two o'clock this afternoon." Danforth's eyes widened as he looked atCarrington. The curiosity in his glance caused Carrington to laughshortly.

  "You don't mean that the governor is in this thing?" said Danforth.

  "Why not?" demanded Carrington. "Bah! Do you think I came in with myeyes closed!"

  There was a new light in Danforth's eyes--the flame of renewed hope.

  "Then we've still got a chance," he declared.

  Carrington laughed. "A too-popular mayor is not a good thing for atown," he said significantly.