The Rider of Golden Bar
CHAPTER SIX
CROSS-PURPOSES
"... and my name is John Dawson," continued the stranger, "and I'm onmy way to visit my uncle at Jacksboro."
"Uncle! Jacksboro!" exclaimed Jonesy. "Pretty smooth and thin."
Tom Walton took no notice of Jonesy. "Where'd you work last?"
"Cross T in Redstone County."
Tom Walton nodded. "Turberville ranch? Left ribs cattle, leftshoulder and jaw horses?"
"No, Tasker's," corrected John Dawson. "Left hip cattle and horses, nojaw brand."
"I know," said Tom Walton gently. "I knew it was Tasker's. I hadto--be sure."
"Whatsa use of this gassing?" demanded Rafe. "I tell you, Tom, wecaught this feller branding one of my calves, and I'll gamble he's theboy been doing all the rustling on your range too."
"You might be right. I don't know. But he tells a straight story."
"They all do. He's a rustler. Take my word for it."
"But he said in the beginning," objected Tom, "that he never was nearthat split draw."
"We saw him, I tell you!"
"All right. Soon as we eat, we'll all ride over to the draw and take asquint at the evidence."
"What for? Ain't my word enough?"
"I don't believe in gamblin' with a man's life," said Tom smoothly.
"Better be sure than sorry," said Billy.
"I won't be sorry none to hang him, the cow thief!"
"If I had my gun I'd argue that with you," remarked the prisonerpleasantly.
Rafe was understood to damn all creation. Oh, he was wild.
"Dinner!" called Hazel from the kitchen door.
"Too bad the sheriff ain't here," grumbled Rafe, on the way to thehouse.
"It is too bad," Tom Walton flung over his shoulder. "But I sent Royfor Sam Prescott. He'll meet us on the Hillsville trail."
Roy was the half of his outfit. The Walton ranch was a little one.Even in big seasons Tom could not afford to employ more than three men.In winter he let them all go. What little work there was to be done hemanaged to do himself. Small rancher though he was, Tom Walton was nota nonentity in the community. Folk trusted him. He was known to behonest.
After dinner the whole party, excepting Hazel, took horse and rode downthe draw to the Hillsville trail. Rafe and his outfit would haveridden to the trail at once. But Billy Wingo carefully shepherded themfrom it.
"We'll keep off the trail," said Billy. "This Dawson man says he'snever been off the trail till he got chased off by you fellers. We maywant to examine that trail for tracks later."
The Tuckleton men muttered and swore, but they kept away from thetrail. Soon after the party reached the vicinity of the trail, Roy,Sam Prescott and two of his men trotted into sight. Billy rode to meetthem and turned them from the trail before they reached the spot whereJohn Dawson said he had left it.
Sam Prescott listened in silence to the respective stories of RafeTuckleton and John Dawson. He seemed unimpressed by either. When hehad heard all they had to say, he dismounted and examined the hoofs ofDawson's horse. Then he and Riley, closely followed by the others,rode along the edge of the trail scrutinizing the tracks upon its dustysurface.
"Here's where he says he left the trail all right," observed Bill."You can't mistake the point of that near fore shoe. He says Tuckletonand his boys rode at him from over yonder, but if they chased himall-away from that split draw like they say they did, there wouldn't bea single track here. They'd all be on the other side of thosecottonwoods."
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward said cottonwoods growingabout a hundred yards to the south.
"Let's go over yonder where he said they came from," said Sam Prescott.
They all went over yonder. There they found the tracks of five horses.Not only that, but in a near-by depression behind some red willows theyfound where five horses had stood a considerable time.
Sam Prescott picked up in turn the hoofs of every Tuckleton horse.
"These five horses were standing here at least two hours," remarked SamPrescott, staring at Rafe.
The latter said nothing. Really, there was nothing to say.
Led by Sam Prescott and Billy, the party followed the tracks of thesefive horses back to the trail and into the draw leading to the Waltonranch.
"You see," said Billy to Sam Prescott. "Those horses were coming onthe dead jump. It's just like Dawson says. They were chasing him."
Although Billy's voice was loud enough for all to hear, none of theTuckleton outfit took it upon himself to deny the statement. It may besaid that they were growing a trifle discouraged.
"Le's go to the split draw," resumed Billy, when Sam Prescott hadopenly agreed with him. "Maybe we'll find that calf and the fire andthe running-iron. But I expect that fire will be out by this time."
"I guess likely." Thus Sam Prescott, and turned his horse.
But they did not find the calf and the extinct fire and therunning-iron. There was nothing in the split draw even remotelyresembling any of these.
"Come to think of it," said Rafe, weakly attempting a last defense,"maybe it was another draw."
"Maybe it was," admitted Sam, turning to young Dawson. "Maybe it was,but I'm satisfied it wasn't. It was a good thing for you, youngfeller, that Billy Wingo and Riley Tyler were on the spot when yourhorse fell."
"I know it," responded young Dawson heartily. "I'm not forgettin' it.And maybe I can return the favor some bright and sunny day. Now if Ican have my gun, I'll just have a word or two with the man you callTuckleton."
"No words," said Sam Prescott firmly. "Not a word. This thing hasgone far enough. There'll be no shooting round here. Rafe and hisoutfit are goin' home now, and you're riding with me back to Tom'sranch. And to-morrow morning I'll see you off to Jacksboro. Rafe, Idon't want to hurry you----"
Rafe Tuckleton and his outfit took the hint.
"And you mean to tell me they can get away with a deal like that?"demanded John Dawson.
Sam Prescott smiled wearily. "What could they be arrested for--alwayssupposing you could get the sheriff to arrest 'em, which he wouldn't."
"Well----"
"There y'are. Of course you could call it attempted assault. What'sthat? Under the statute, a week in jail. And who'd convict 'em?"
Tom Walton laughed bitterly. "You don't know this county, Mr. Dawson.Anything can happen here."
"Seemingly it can," said Mr. Dawson in frank disgust.
"You see," said Rafe, "I'd figured we'd have to find somebody to lynchfor rustlin' so that infernal Tom Walton wouldn't be suspectin' us allatime. Shindle ran across this Dawson party in Hillsville and guessedhe'd fill the bill, he being a stranger and all."
"So Skinny rode ahead and let you know he was coming, huh?" queried SamLarder.
"Yeah. Oh, damn the luck! Who'd have expected Wingo and Tyler to beat Walton's?"
"They did put a crimp in your plans, sort of," assented Larder.
"And now Tom Walton is more suspicious than ever," contributed TipO'Gorman.
"I can fix that Wingo, though," snarled Rafe Tuckleton. "He'll neverget elected sheriff now."
Tip smiled. "Won't he?"
"No he won't he!"
"That's just the thing will cinch his election. I'm gonna play it upstrong in the campaign."
"What! Why, he tried to show us up!"
"And succeeded in doing it, according to your tell. That's all right;Rafe, you were a little too raw, you know. I've cautioned you aboutbeing more careful. You wouldn't take advice and you'll have to takeyour medicine--this time. I'll explain matters to Bill, where youstand and everything. You'll find it won't happen again."
With which Tuckleton was forced to be satisfied.
That night Tip O'Gorman had a long talk with Billy Wingo. Tip did nottell him all he knew, by any means. Such was not his custom. Tounderstand Tip one had to do a deal of reading between the lines. Butwhen Tip went home, he carried with him
the belief that Billyunderstood perfectly the desires and aims of the county machine andwould be a willing worker.
Billy sat looking up at the ceiling for quite a long time after Tip wasgone. Finally he laughed silently.
"Tip, you're an old scoundrel," he said aloud, "but I can't help likingyou, just the same. I hope I don't have to step too hard on your toes."