CHAPTER V
A MAN'S WORD
When Lawler finally emerged from the schoolhouse door there was no oneabout. Far down the street, in front of a building, he saw a group ofchildren. Lawler recognized the building as the Wolf Saloon--so namedbecause of the river that ran through the town. He had no doubt thatSingleton had entered the building--that would explain the presence ofthe children in front of it.
But Lawler merely glanced toward town; he turned instantly and gazedlong into the great stretch of plain that ran eastward. He caught sightof a dot on his right, so far away that it was dim in the haze ofdistance, and he knew Ruth had followed his advice.
Lawler watched the dot until it vanished, and when he turned again--tomount Red King--his color had returned, though something of the mightypassion that had gripped him was still swimming in his eyes.
He sent Red King into town at a slow lope, not even looking toward theWolf as he passed it, but hearing subdued voices that seemed to die awayas he drew close.
He brought Red King to a halt in front of the brick building in whichGary Warden had his office, dismounted, tied the horse to a hitchingrail and strode to an open doorway from which ran the stairs that ledto the second floor. A gilt sign on the open door advised him of thelocation of Warden's office.
With one foot on the stairs, ready to ascend, Lawler heard a woman'svoice, floating downward, coming from the landing above:
"Well, good-bye Gary," said the voice; "I'll see you tonight."
Lawler heard a man's voice answering, the words unintelligible to him;then the woman laughed, banteringly.
Then came the sound of a door closing, and the light tread of a woman'sfoot on the stairs.
Lawler had halted when he heard the woman's voice; he now stepped backin the narrow hallway, against the open door, to give the woman room topass him.
Turning his back to the stairs, unconcernedly waiting, subconsciouslyrealizing that the woman was descending, he gazed past the stationbuilding to see the empty corrals on the other side of the railroadtrack. His eyes narrowed with satisfaction--for there would be room forthe thousand head of cattle that Blackburn and the other men of theCircle L outfit would bring to Willets in the morning. There would be nodelay, and no camp on the edge of town, awaiting the emptying of thecorral.
When he heard the woman's step on the bottom of the stairs he turned andfaced her. She was looking straight at him, and as their eyes met he sawhers widen eloquently. She half paused as she started to pass him, andit seemed to him that she was about to speak. He smiled gravely,puzzled, hesitant, for her manner indicated that she knew him, or wasmistaking him for another. He paused also, and both stood for a fleetinginstant face to face, silent.
Lawler noted that the woman was beautiful, well dressed, with a mannerunmistakably eastern. He decided that she had mistaken him for someoneof her acquaintance, for he felt assured he never had seen her before.He bowed, saying lowly:
"I beg your pardon, ma'am; I reckon it's a case of mistaken identity."
"Why," she returned, laughing; "I thought sure I knew you. Are you quitecertain that I don't?"
There was guile in her eyes; so far back that he could not see it, or socleverly veiled with something else that he was not aware of it. Itseemed to him that the eyes were merely engaging, and frankly curious.He did not see the admiration in them, the elation, and the demurecoquetry.
"I reckon you'll have to be the judge of that, ma'am. You certainly havethe advantage of me."
"You are--" Her pause was eloquent.
"I am Kane Lawler, ma'am."
He looked into her eyes for the disappointment he expected to findthere, and saw only eager interrogation.
"Oh, then I don't know you. I beg your pardon."
"I reckon there's no harm done," smiled Lawler.
He bowed again, noting that she looked intently at him, her eyes stillwide and filled with something he could not fathom. And when halfway upthe stairs he looked back, curious, subtly attracted to the woman, hesaw her standing in the doorway, ready to go out, watching him over hershoulder. He laughed and opened the door of Gary Warden's office.
Warden was sitting at his desk. He turned at the sound of the dooropening, and faced Lawler inquiringly.
Perhaps in Lawler's eyes there still remained a trace of the coldpassion that had seized him in the schoolhouse; it may have been thatwhat Lawler had heard of Gary Warden was reflected in his gaze--a doubtof Warden's honorableness. Or perhaps in Lawler's face he observed signswhich told him that before him stood a man of uncommon character.
At any rate, Warden was conscious of a subtle pulse of antagonism; aquick dislike--and jealousy.
Warden could not have told what had aroused the latter emotion, thoughhe was subconsciously aware that it had come when he had noted therugged, manly strength of Lawler's face; that the man was attractive,and that he admired him despite his dislike.
That knowledge aroused a dull rage in him. His cheeks flushed, his eyesglowed with it.
But Warden's smile contradicted his thoughts. He managed that socleverly that many men, watching him, might have been deceived.
In Lawler's keen eyes, however, glowed understanding--a knowledge ofWarden's character that vindicated the things he had heard about theman--the tentative suggestions that Warden was not a worthy successor toLefingwell.
That knowledge, though, would not have bothered him, had he not seen inWarden's eyes something that seemed to offer him a personal affront. Asquickly as Warden had veiled his eyes from Lawler, the latter had seenthe dislike in them, the antagonism, and the rage that had stained hischeeks.
He had come to Warden's office with an open mind; now he looked at theman with a saturnine smile in which there was amused contempt. Assuredlythe new buyer did not "measure up" to Jim Lefingwell's "size," asBlackburn had suggested.
Therefore, aware that he could not meet this man on the basis offriendliness that had distinguished all his relations with JimLefingwell, Lawler's voice was crisp and businesslike:
"You're Gary Warden?"
At the latter's short, affirmative nod, Lawler continued:
"I'm Kane Lawler, of the Circle L. I've come to make arrangements withyou about buying my cattle. I've got eight thousand head--good cleanstock. They're above the average, but I'm keeping my word with JimLefingwell, and turning them in at the market price."
"That's twenty-five dollars, delivered at the railroad company's corral,in town here."
He looked straight at Lawler, his face expressionless except for theslight smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth--which might havebeen indicative of vindictiveness or triumph.
"Thirty," smiled Lawler. "That was the price Lefingwell agreed to pay."
Warden appeared to be blandly amused.
"Lefingwell agreed to pay thirty, you say? Well, Lefingwell always was alittle reckless. That's why my company asked for his resignation. But ifyou have a written contract with Lefingwell--in which it appears thatLefingwell acted for the company, why, of course we'll have to take yourstock at the contract price. Let me see it, if you please."
"There was no written contract; I had Jim Lefingwell's word--which wasall I ever needed."
"Lefingwell's word," smiled Warden. "Unfortunately, a man's word is notconclusive proof."
"Meaning that Jim Lefingwell was lying when he told you he'd agreed topay thirty dollars for my stock this fall?"
"Oh, no. I don't insinuate against Lefingwell's veracity. But thecompany requires a written agreement in a case like this--where theformer representative----"
"We won't argue that," interrupted Lawler. "Jim Lefingwell told me he'dhad a talk with you about my agreement with him, and Jim said you'dcarry it out."
"Mr. Lefingwell did not mention the matter to me."
"I'd hate to think Jim Lefingwell lied to me," said Lawler, slowly.
Warden's face grew crimson. "Meaning that I'm a liar, I suppose," hesaid, his voice quavering with sudden passion.
/> Lawler's level gaze made him stiffen in his chair. Lawler's smile, coldand mirthless, brought a pulse of apprehension through him, and Lawler'svoice, slow, clear, and distinct, forced the blood from his face,leaving it pale:
"I don't let any man twist my words so that they mean something I don'tintend them to mean, Mister Man. If I intended to call you a liar, I'dhave said it to you mighty plain, so there'd be no doubt in your mindabout it. So far as I know, you are not a liar. I'm telling you this,though: A man's word in this country has got to be backed by hisperformances--and he's got to have memory enough to know when he giveshis word.
"I reckon that where you come from men give their word without knowingit. Maybe that's what happened to you when Jim Lefingwell spoke to youabout his agreement with me. Anyway, I feel that charitable enoughtoward you to advance that explanation. You can take that for what itseems worth to you. And I won't be bothered any, no matter which way youtake it."
Lawler turned toward the door. On the threshold he paused, for Warden'svoice reached him.
"You'd better sell at twenty-five, Mr. Lawler."
Warden's voice was low and smooth; he seemed to have decided to acceptthe "charity" offered him by Lawler. But there was mockery in his voice,and his eyes were alight with cunning. In the atmosphere about him wascomplacency which suggested that Warden knew exactly what he was doing;that he had knowledge unsuspected by Lawler, and that he had no doubtthat, ultimately, Lawler would accept his offer.
"Not a steer at twenty-five," returned Lawler.
"That price means immediate shipment," pursued Warden. "The railroadsare having some trouble with their rolling stock--it is hard to getcars. Some shippers are not getting them at all. And the shortage willgrow."
"Perhaps it will. I don't blame you for buying as low as you can. That'sbusiness, Warden. I heard through Lew Brainard, of the Two Diamond, thatowners in the South Basin, over at Shotwell, were offered forty justbefore the round-up. I was kicking myself for making that agreement withLefingwell at thirty. But I intended to keep my word with him. But Ifeel mighty free, now, to sell where I can get the market price."
"Twenty-five is the market price," said Warden. "Just before theround-up there was some nervousness, it is true; and some buyers wereoffering forty--and they contracted for some at that price. But that wasbefore we made--" He hesitated, reddened, and then went on quickly,plainly embarrassed, endeavoring to conceal his embarrassment bylighting a cigar.
"It was before the market broke," he went on. "The market is glutted.The West raised more cattle this season than ever before. There is nodemand and the price had to tumble. A good many cattle owners will beglad to take twenty, and even fifteen, before long."
"But if there are no cars?" smiled Lawler.
Again he saw Warden's face redden.
"A shortage of cars would mean a shortage of cattle in the East, Ireckon," went on Lawler. "And a shortage of cattle would mean higherprices for those that got through. But I'm not arguing--nor am Iaccepting twenty-five for my cattle. I reckon I'll have to ship my stockEast."
"Well, I wish you luck," said Warden.
He turned his back to Lawler, bending over his desk.
Something in his voice--a hint of mockery tempered with rage--broughtLawler to a pause as he crossed the threshold of the doorway. He turnedand looked back at Warden, puzzled, for it seemed to him that Warden wasdefying him; and he seemed to feel the atmosphere of complacence thatsurrounded the man. His manner hinted of secret knowledge--strongly; itgave Lawler an impression of something stealthy, clandestine. Warden'sbusiness methods were not like Lefingwell's. Lefingwell had been bluff,frank, and sincere; there was something in Warden's manner that seemedto exude craft and guile. The contrast between the two men was sharp,acute, startling; and Lawler descended the stairs feeling that he hadjust been in contact with something that crept instead of walkingupright like a man.
A recollection of the woman he had met at the foot of the stairs came toLawler as he descended, and thought of her did much to erase theimpression he had gained of Warden. He grinned, thinking of how he hadcaught her watching him as he had mounted the stairs. And then hereddened as he realized that he would not have known she was watchinghim had he not turned to look back at her.
He found himself wondering about her--why she had been in Warden'soffice, and who she could be. And then he remembered his conversationwith Blackburn, about "chapper-owns," and he decided she must be thatwoman to whom Blackburn had referred as "a woman at Lefingwell's oldplace, keepin' Warden company." He frowned, and crossed the street,going toward the railroad station building, in which he would find thefreight agent.
And as he walked he was considering another contrast--that afforded byhis glimpse of the strange woman and Ruth Hamlin. And presently he foundhimself smiling with pleasure, with a mental picture of Ruth's facebefore him--her clear, direct-looking, honest eyes, with no guile inthem like that which had glowed in the eyes that had gazed into his atthe foot of the stairs.
Over in Corwin's store, where "Aunt Hannah," had gone to make some smallpurchases, the woman who had encountered Lawler in the hall was talkingwith the proprietor. Aunt Hannah was watching a clerk.
"Della," she called; "do you want anything?"
"Nothing, Aunty," returned the woman. Then she lowered her voice,speaking to Corwin:
"So he owns the Circle L? Is that a large ranch?"
"One of the biggest in the Wolf River section," declared Corwin.
"Then Lawler must be wealthy."
"I reckon he's got wads of dust, ma'am."
The woman's eyes glowed with satisfaction.
"Well," she said; "I was just curious about him. He is a remarkablystriking-looking man, isn't he?"
"You've hit it, ma'am," grinned Corwin. "I've been years tryin' to thinkup a word that would fit him. You've hit it. He's different. Looks likeone of them statesmen with cowpuncher duds on--like a governor orsomethin', which is out of place here."
The woman smiled affirmation. "So he does," she said, reflectively. "Heis big, and imposing, and strikingly handsome. And he is educated, too,isn't he?"
"I reckon he is," said Corwin. "Privately, that is. His maw was ascholar of some kind back East, before she married Luke Lawler an' comeout here to live with him. Luke's dead, now--died five years ago. Lukewas a wolf, ma'am, with a gun. He could shoot the buttons off your coatwith his eyes shut. An' he was so allfired fast with his gun that he'dmake a streak of lightnin' look like it was loafin'. Luke had a heap ofman in him, ma'am, an' Kane is just as much of a man as his dad was, Ireckon. Luke was----"
"About Kane Lawler," interrupted the woman. "You say he is welleducated?"
"That's about the only thing I've got ag'in' him, ma'am. I hold that nocattleman has got a right to know so durned much. It's mightydangerous--to his folks--if he ever gets any. Now take Kane Lawler. Ifhe was to marry a girl that wasn't educated like him, an' he'd begin toget fool notions about hisself--why, it'd make it pretty hard for thegirl to get along with him." He grinned. "But accordin' to what I hear,Kane ain't goin' to marry no ignoramus exactly, for he's took a shine toRuth Hamlin, Willets' school teacher. She's got a heap of brains, thatgirl, an' I reckon she'd lope alongside of Kane, wherever he went."
The woman frowned. "Is Mr. Lawler going to marry Ruth Hamlin?"
Corwin looked sharply at her. "What do you suppose he's fannin' up toher for?" he demanded. "Neither of them is a heap flighty, I reckon. An'Kane will marry her if she'll have him--accordin' to the way thingsgenerally go."
The woman smiled as she left Corwin and joined the older woman at thefront of the store. She smiled as she talked with the other woman, andshe smiled as they both walked out of the store and climbed into abuckboard. The smile was one that would have puzzled Corwin, for it wasinscrutable, baffling. Only one thing Corwin might have seen init--determination. And that might have puzzled him, also.