CHAPTER XV
BOB TAKES A HAND
Fendrick, riding on Mesa Verde, met Bob Cullison, and before he knew whathad happened found a gun thrown on him.
"Don't you move," the boy warned.
"What does this tommyrot mean?" the sheepman demanded angrily.
"It means that you are coming back with me to the ranch. That's what itmeans."
"What for?"
"Never you mind what for."
"Oh, go to Mexico," Cass flung back impatiently. "Think we're in some foolmoving-picture play, you blamed young idiot. Put up that gun."
Shrilly Bob retorted. He was excited enough to be dangerous. "Don't youget the wrong idea. I'm going to make this stick. You'll turn and go backwith me to the Circle C."
"And you'll travel to Yuma first thing you know, you young Jesse James.What _you_ need is a pair of leather chaps applied to your hide."
"You'll go home with me, just the same."
"You've got one more guess coming, kid. I'll not go without knowing why."
"You're wanted for the W. & S. Express robbery. Blackwell has confessed."
"Confessed that I did it?" Fendrick inquired scornfully.
"Says you were in it with him. I ain't a-going to discuss it with you.Swing that horse round; and don't make any breaks, or there'll be mourningat the C. F. ranch."
Cass sat immovable as the sphinx. He was thinking that he might as wellface the charge now as any time. Moreover, he had reasons for wanting tovisit the Circle C. They had to do with a tall, slim girl who never lookedat him without scorn in her dark, flashing eyes.
"All right. I'll go back with you, but not under a gun."
"You'll go the way I say."
"Don't think it. I've said I'll go. That settles it. But I won't stand forany gun-play capture."
"You'll have to stand for it."
Fendrick's face set. "Will I? It's up to you, then. Let's see you makeme."
Sitting there with his gaze steadily on the boy, Cass had Bob at adisadvantage. If the sheep owner had tried to break away into thechaparral. Bob could have blazed away at him, but he could not shoot a manlooking at him with cynical, amused eyes. He could understand the point ofview of his adversary. If Fendrick rode into the Circle C under compulsionof a gun in the hands of a boy he would never hear the end of the laugh onhim.
"You won't try to light out, will you?"
"I've got no notion of lighting out."
Bob put up his big blue gun reluctantly. Never before had it been trainedon a human being, and it was a wrench to give up the thought of bringingin the enemy as a prisoner. But he saw he could not pull it off. Fendrickhad declined to scare, had practically laughed him out of it. The boy hadnot meant his command as a bluff, but Cass knew him better than he didhimself.
They turned toward the Circle C.
"Must have been taking lessons on how to bend a gun. You in training forsheriff, or are you going to take Bucky's place with the rangers?"Fendrick asked with casual impudence, malicious amusement gleaming fromhis lazy eyes.
Bob, very red about the ears, took refuge in a sulky silence. He was beingguyed, and not by an inch did he propose to compromise the Cullisondignity.
"From the way you go at it, I figure you an old hand at the hold-up game.Wonder if you didn't pull off the W. & S. raid yourself."
Bob writhed impotently. At this sort of thing he was no match for theother. Fendrick, now in the best of humors, planted lazily his offhandbarbs.
Kate was seated on the porch sewing. She rose in surprise when her cousinand the sheepman appeared. They came with jingling spurs across the plazatoward her. Bob was red as a turkeycock, but Fendrick wore his mostdevil-may-care insouciance.
"Where's Uncle Luck, sis? I've brought this fellow back with me. Caughthim on the mesa," explained the boy sulkily.
Fendrick bowed rather extravagantly and flashed at the girl a smilingdouble-row of strong white teeth. "He's qualifying for a moving-pictureshow actor, Miss Cullison. I hadn't the heart to disappoint him when hegot that cannon trained on me. So here I am."
Kate looked at him and then let her gaze travel to her cousin. She somehowgave the effect of judging him of negligible value.
"I think he's in his office, Bob. I'll go see."
She went swiftly, and presently her father came out. Kate did not return.
Luck looked straight at Cass with the uncompromising hostility socharacteristic of him. Neither of the men spoke. It was Bob who made thenecessary explanations. The sheepman heard them with a polite derisionthat suggested an impersonal amusement at the situation.
"I've been looking for you," Luck said bluntly, after his nephew hadfinished.
"So I gathered from young Jesse James. He intimated it over the long bluebarrel of his cannon. Anything particular, or just a pleasant socialcall?"
"You're in bad on this W. & S. robbery. I reckoned you would be safer injail till it's cleared up."
"You still sheriff, Mr. Cullison? Somehow I had got a notion you had quitthe job."
"I'm an interested party. There's new evidence, not manufactured,either."
"Well, well!"
"We'll take the stage into town and see what O'Connor says--that is, ifyou've got time to go." Luck could be as formal in his sarcasm as hisneighbor.
"With such good company on the way I'll have to make time."
The stage did not usually leave till about half past one. Presently Kateannounced dinner. A little awkwardly Luck invited the sheepman to jointhem. Fendrick declined. He was a Fletcherite, he informed Cullisonironically, and was in the habit of missing meals occasionally. This wouldbe one of the times.
His host hung in the doorway. Seldom at a loss to express himself, he didnot quite know how to put into words what he was thinking. His enemyunderstood.
"That's all right. You've satisfied the demands of hospitality. Go eatyour dinner. I'll be right here on the porch when you get through."
Kate, who was standing beside her father, spoke quietly.
"There's a place for you, Mr. Fendrick. We should be very pleased to haveyou join us. People who happen to be at the Circle C at dinner time areexpected to eat here."
"Come and eat, man. You'll be under no obligations. I reckon you can hateus, just as thorough after a square meal as before. Besides, I was yourguest for several days."
Fendrick looked at the young mistress of the ranch. He meant to declineonce more, but unaccountably found himself accepting instead. Something inher face told him she would rather have it so.
Wherefore Cass found himself with his feet under the table of his foediscussing various topics that had nothing to do with sheep, homesteadclaims, abductions, or express robberies. He looked at Kate but rarely,yet he was aware of her all the time. At his ranch a Mexican did thecooking in haphazard fashion. The food was ill prepared and worse served.He ate only because it was a necessity, and he made as short a business ofit as he could. Here were cut roses on a snowy tablecloth, an air ofleisure that implied the object of dinner to be something more than todevour a given quantity of food. Moreover, the food had a flavor that madeit palatable. The rib roast was done to a turn, the mashed potatoeswhipped to a flaky lightness. The vegetable salad was a triumph, and therice custard melted in his mouth.
Presently a young man came into the dining room and sat down beside Kate.He looked the least in the world surprised at sight of the sheepman.
"Mornin', Cass," he nodded
"Morning, Curly," answered Fendrick. "Didn't know you were riding for theCircle C."
"He's my foreman," Luck explained.
Cass observed that he was quite one of the family. Bob admired him openlyand without shame, because he was the best rider in Arizona; Kate seemedto be on the best of terms with him, and Luck treated him with the offhandbluffness he might have used toward a grown son.
If Cass had, in his bitter, sardonic fashion, been interested in Katebefore he sat down, the feeling had quickened to something differentbefore he rose.
It was not only that she was competent to devise such ameal in the desert. There was something else. She had made a _home_ forher father and cousin at the Circle C. The place radiated love,domesticity, kindly good fellowship. The casual give and take of thefriendly talk went straight to the heart of the sheepman. This was living.It came to him poignantly that in his scramble for wealth he had missedthat which was of far greater importance.
The stage brought the two men to town shortly after sundown. Luck calledup O'Connor, and made an appointment to meet him after supper.
"Back again, Bucky," Fendrick grinned at sight of the ranger. "I hear I'msuspected of being a bad hold-up."
"There's a matter that needs explaining, Cass. According to Blackwell'sstory, you caught him with the goods at the time of the robbery, and inmaking his getaway he left the loot with you. What have you done withit?"
"Blackwell told you that, did he?"
"Yes."
"Don't doubt your word for a moment, Bucky, but before I do any talkingI'd like to hear him say so. I'll not round on him until I know he's givenhimself away."
The convict was sent for. He substantiated the ranger reluctantly. He wasso hemmed in that he did not know how to play his cards so as to make themost of them. He hated Fendrick. But much as he desired to convict him, hecould not escape an uneasy feeling that he was going to be made thevictim. For Cass took it with that sarcastic smile of his that mocked themall in turn. The convict trusted none of them. Already he felt thepenitentiary walls closing on him. He was like a trapped coyote, ready tosnarl and bite at the first hand he could reach. Just now this happened tobelong to Fendrick, who had cheated him out of the money he had stolen andhad brought this upon him.
Cass heard him out with a lifted upper lip and his most somnolenttiger-cat expression. After Blackwell had finished and been withdrawn fromcirculation he rolled and lit a cigarette.
"By Mr. Blackwell's say-so I'm the goat. By the way, has it ever occurredto you gentlemen that one can't be convicted on the testimony of a singleaccomplice?" He asked it casually, his chair tipped back, smoke wreathsdrifting lazily ceilingward.
"We've got a little circumstantial evidence to add, Cass." Bucky suggestedpleasantly.
"Not enough--not nearly enough."
"That will be for a jury to decide," Cullison chipped in.
Fendrick shrugged. "I've a notion to let it go to that. But what's theuse? Understand this. I wasn't going to give Blackwell away, but since hehas talked, I may tell what I know. It's true enough what he says. I didrelieve him of the plunder."
"Sorry to hear that, Cass," Bucky commented gravely. "What did you do withit?"
The sheep owner flicked his cigarette ash into the tray, and looked at thelieutenant out of half-shuttered, indolent eyes. "Gave it to you, Bucky."
O'Connor sat up. His blue Irish eyes were dancing. "You're a coolcustomer, Cass."
"Fact, just the same. Got that letter I handed you the other day?"
The officer produced it from his safe.
"Open it."
With a paper knife Bucky ripped the flap and took out a sheet of paper.
"There's something else in there," Fendrick suggested.
The something else proved to be a piece of paper folded tightly, whichbeing opened disclosed a key.
O'Connor read aloud the letter:
To Nicholas Bolt, Sheriff, Or Bucky O'connor, Lieutenant of Rangers:
Having come into possession of a little valise which is not mine, I am getting rid of it in the following manner. I have rented a large safety-deposit box at the Cattlemen's National Bank, and have put into it the valise with the lock still unbroken. The key is inclosed herewith. Shaw, the cashier, will tell you that when this box was rented I gave explicit orders it should be opened only by the men whose names are given in an envelope left with him, not even excepting myself. The valise was deposited at exactly 10:30 A. M. the morning after the robbery, as Mr. Shaw will also testify. I am writing this the evening of the same day.
Cass Fendrick.
"Don't believe a word of it," Cullison exploded.
"Seeing is believing," the sheepman murmured. He was enjoying greatly thediscomfiture of his foe.
"Makes a likely fairy tale. What for would you keep the money and not turnit back?"
"That's an easy one, Luck. He wanted to throw the burden of the robbery onyou," Bucky explained.
"Well, I've got to be shown."
In the morning he was shown. Shaw confirmed exactly what Fendrick hadsaid. He produced a sealed envelope. Within this was a sheet of paper,upon which were written two lines.
Box 2143 is to be opened only by Sheriff Bolt or Lieutenant Bucky O'Connor of the Rangers, and before witnesses.
CASS FENDRICK.
From the safety-deposit vault Bucky drew a large package wrapped in yellowpaper. He cut the string, tore away the covering, and disclosed a leathersatchel. Perry Hawley, the local manager of the Western & Southern ExpressCompany, fitted to this a key and took out a sealed bundle. This he rippedopen before them all. Inside was found the sum of twenty thousand dollarsin crisp new bills.