Partners of Chance

  CHAPTER XXII

  BOX-S BUSINESS

  A few days later, Bartley stopped at a small town to have his horseshod. The blacksmith seemed unusually interested in the horse andcomplimented Bartley upon owning such a good mount.

  "Comes from up San Andreas way," said the smith, noticing the brand onDobe's flank.

  "Yes. I picked him up at Antelope. I understand he was raised on SenatorBrown's ranch."

  "That's Steve Brown's brand, all right. Heard the news from up thatway?"

  "Nothing special."

  "Seems somebody run off a bunch of Senator Steve's horses, last week.Thought mebby you'd heard."

  "No."

  "Well, thought I'd just tell you. I seen one posse ride throughyesterday. They'll be lookin' for strangers along the road."

  "Thanks. I bought this horse--and I happen to know Senator Brown."

  "No offense, stranger. If I'd 'a' suspicioned you'd stole that horse,you wouldn't take him out of here. Like I said to Cheyenne, last week;he could fetch a whole carload of stock in here and take 'em out againwithout trouble. He was tellin' me how he lost his horses, and we got totalkin' about some folks bein' blind when they're facin' a brand on acritter. Mebby you heard tell of Cheyenne Hastings?"

  "I have traveled with him. You say he stopped here a few days ago?"

  "Well, not just stopped; he kind of looked in to see how I was gettin'along. He acted queerlike, for him. I've knowed Cheyenne for years. Saidhe was feelin' all right. He ast me if I'd seen Panhandle Sears downthis way, recent. Seemed kind of disappointed when I told him no.Cheyenne used to be a right-smart man, before he had trouble with thatwoman of his."

  "Yes? He told me about it," said Bartley, not caring to hear any more ofthe details of Cheyenne's trouble.

  "'Most everybody knows it," stated the smith. "And if I was Sears I'dsure leave this country."

  "So should I. I've seen Cheyenne handle a gun."

  "You got the right idea!" exclaimed the blacksmith, evidently pleased."All Cheyenne's friends have been waitin' for years for him to cleanthat slate and start fresh again. He used to be a right-smart hand,before he had trouble."

  The blacksmith accompanied his conversation with considerable elbowmotion and the rattle and clang of shaping horseshoes. Presently Dobewas new shod and ready for the road. Bartley paid the smith, thanked himfor a good job, and rode south. Evidently Cheyenne's open quarrel withSears was the talk of the countryside. It was expected of Cheyenne thathe would "clean the slate and start fresh" some day. And cleaning theslate meant killing Sears. To Bartley it seemed strange that any oneshould be pleased with the idea of one man killing another deliberately.

  In speaking of the recent horse-stealings, the blacksmith had mentionedno names. But Bartley at once drew the conclusion that it had beenSneed's men who had run off the Senator's horses. Sneed was known to bea horse-thief. He had never been convicted, although he had beenarrested and tried several times. It was also known that Senator Stevehad openly vowed that he would rid the country of Sneed, sooner orlater.

  Several times, during his journey south, Bartley was questioned, butnever interfered with. Thus far he heard of Cheyenne occasionally, but,nearing Phoenix, he lost track of his erstwhile companion. However, hetook it for granted that Phoenix had been Cheyenne's destination. AndBartley wanted to see the town for himself, in any event.

  * * * * *

  Cheyenne, arriving in Phoenix, stabled his horses at the Top-Notchlivery, and took a room for himself directly opposite theHole-in-the-Wall gambling-house. He refused to drink with the occasionalacquaintance he met, not because he did not like liquor, but becauseColonel Stevenson, the city marshal, had told him that Panhandle Searsand his friends were in town.

  "Why don't you tell me to go git him?" queried Cheyenne, looking themarshal in the eye.

  "I didn't think it was necessary," said the marshal.

  "What? To git him?"

  The marshal smiled. Then casually: "I hear that Panhandle and hisfriends are drinking heavy and spending considerable money. They musthave made a strike, somewhere."

  "I see by the paper somebody run off a bunch of the Box-S hosses,"remarked Cheyenne, also casually.

  Then, without further comment, he left the marshal wondering ifPanhandle's presence in town had any connection with the recentrunning-off of the Box-S stock. The sheriff of Antelope had wiredColonel Stevenson to be on the lookout for Bill Sneed and his gang, buthad not mentioned Panhandle's name in the telegram.

  The following day, Senator Brown and his foreman, Lon Pelly, arrived inPhoenix and had a long talk with the marshal. That afternoon Lon Pellytook the train south. Early in the evening Senator Brown received atelegram from Pelly stating that Sneed and four men had left Tucson,headed north and riding horses.

  The stolen horses had been trailed south as far as Phoenix. It wasevident that they had been driven to Tucson and disposed of somewhere inthat vicinity. Yet there was no conclusive proof that Sneed had stolenthe horses. As usual, he had managed to keep a few days ahead of hispursuers. Sneed was known to have left his camp in the hills above SanAndreas. The first posse had found the camp abandoned. Sneed had notbeen identified until Pelly got track of him in Tucson.

  During his talk with Senator Brown the marshal mentioned the fact thatPanhandle Sears was in Phoenix.

  "Did Panhandle come in from the south?" queried the Senator.

  "Nobody seems to know."

  "Well, if he did, we have got the link that's missing in this chain,Colonel. Pelly is holdin' one end of the chain down in Tucson, and theother end is layin' right here in Phoenix. If we can connect her up--"

  "But we haven't located the horses, Senator."

  "Colonel, I'll find those horses if I can. But I'm after Sneed, thisjourney. He has been running things about ten years too long to suit me.I've got a check-book with me. You have the men. I'm out to do a littlehousecleanin' of my own. If we can get Panhandle to talk, we can findout something."

  "He's been on a drunk for a week. I could run him in for disturbing thepeace and--"

  "And he'd suspect what we're after and freeze up, tight. No, let him runloose, but keep your eye on him. He'll give the deal away, sooner orlater."

  "I hope it's sooner," said the Colonel. "Cheyenne is holed up down thestreet, waiting for a chance to get Sears. Cheyenne didn't say so, butit was in his eye. He's changed considerable since I saw him last."

  "Was there any one with him: a tall, dark-haired, kind of clean-cut boy,for instance?"

  "No, not when I saw him. He rode in with his usual outfit."

  "Wonder where he lost young Bartley? Well, I'm glad the boy isn't here.He might get hurt."

  "Wild?"

  "No. Quiet. Writes stories. He's out here to look at the West. Stayed atthe ranch a spell. Mrs. Brown likes him."

  Colonel Stevenson nodded and offered the Senator a cigar. "Let's stepover to the hotel, Steve. It's a long time since--"

  * * * * *

  That evening Bartley arrived in Phoenix, put up his horse, and, uponinquiry, learned that the Grand Central was the best hotel in town. Hewas registering when he noticed Senator Brown's name. He made inquiry ofthe clerk. Yes, the Senator had arrived that morning. And would Mr.Bartley prefer a front room? The front rooms on the north side werecooler. No, the clerk knew nothing about a Mr. Cheyenne. There was noone by that name registered at the hotel. It was past the regular dinnerhour, but the dining-room was not yet closed. There was a men'sfurnishings store just across the street. They carried a complete stock.And did Mr. Bartley wish to be called at any special hour in themorning? Breakfast was served from six-thirty to nine-thirty.

  Bartley had dinner, and later strolled around to the Top-Notch livery tosee that Dobe was being well cared for. While talking with thestableman, Bartley noticed a gray pony and in the next stall abuckskin--Cheyenne's horses.

  "Those are Cheyenne's horses, aren't they?" he queried.

/>   "I dunno. Mebby that's his name. He left 'em here a few days ago. I onlyseen him once, since then."

  "I'll be around in the morning. If a man called Cheyenne should happento come in, just tell him that Bartley is stopping at the GrandCentral."

  "I'll tell him, all right," said the stableman.

  And as soon as Bartley was out of sight, that worthy called up the citymarshal and told him that a stranger had ridden in and stabled a horsebearing the Box-S brand. A big reward had been offered for the stolenhorses.

  At the hotel Bartley learned that Senator Brown had gone out for theevening. Tired from his long ride, Bartley went to his room. SenatorSteve and Cheyenne were in town. Bartley recalled the blacksmith's talkabout the stolen horses. No doubt that accounted for Senator Steve'spresence in Phoenix. As for Cheyenne--Bartley decided to hunt him up inthe morning.