Square Deal Sanderson

  CHAPTER XXIV

  CONCERNING A WOMAN

  Day was breaking when Sanderson rode in to the Double A corral anddismounted. Several of the men of the outfit were astir, and he calledto one of them, and told the man to care for his horse. He grinnedaround at them all, and then went into the house.

  Mary Bransford was not yet up. The door that Sanderson had gone out ofthe night before was still unlocked. He opened it and entered, passingthrough the sitting-room and halting in the kitchen. He had noted thatthe door to Mary's room was closed.

  Sanderson's dominant emotion was that of grim satisfaction. He hadcompelled Maison to disgorge the money without jeopardizing his ownliberty. Judge Graney's word would suffice to prove his case shouldMaison proceed against him.

  But Sanderson had little fear that Maison would attempt reprisal. Ifhe had judged the man correctly, Maison would not talk, even toSilverthorn.

  Sanderson cared very little if he did talk. He had reached the pointwhere the killing of his enemies would come easy to him. They hadchosen lawlessness, and he could wage that kind of warfare as well asthey. He had shown them that he could.

  He disclosed the visible proof of his ability. One by one he drew thepackages of currency from various pockets, tossing them at random onthe kitchen table. He was standing at the table, counting the bills inone of the packages, when he heard a sound behind him. He wheeled, toconfront Mary Bransford.

  She was dressed, but her face was as yet unwashed, and her hairuncombed. She stood in the doorway between the dining-room and thekitchen, looking at Sanderson in sleepy-eyed bewilderment.

  "I saw you riding in," she said. "Where on earth have you been at thishour? You came from the direction of Okar."

  "Business," he grinned.

  "Business! Why, what kind of business could take you to Okar duringthe night?"

  "If you could get the sleep out of your eyes," he suggested, "mebbe youcould see. It's the kind of business that all the world is interestedin--gettin' the money."

  And then she saw the packages of bills. She rubbed her eyes as thoughin doubt of the accuracy of her vision; they grew wide and bright withastonishment and wonder, and she gave a little, breathless gasp as sheran forward to the table and looked down at the mound of wealth.

  And then, convinced that her senses had not played her a trick, herface whitened, she drew a long breath, and turned to Sanderson,grasping the lapels of his coat and holding them tightly.

  "Sanderson," she said in an awed voice, "what have you done? Where didyou get that money?"

  He told her, and her eyes dilated. "What a reckless thing to do!" shesaid. "They might have killed you!"

  "Maison was havin' thoughts the other way round," he grinned. "He wasmighty glad I didn't make him pay for the men he killed."

  "They'll be after you--they'll kill you for that!" she told him.

  "Shucks," he laughed. He showed her the document written and signed byMaison, and attested by Judge Graney:

  This is to certify that I have tonight paid to Deal Sanderson the sumof ninety thousand dollars for three thousand head of cattle receivedto my full satisfaction.

  "There ain't no comeback to that!" exulted Sanderson. "Now we'll startbuildin' that dam. Mebbe, though," he added, grinning at her, "if youknew where a mighty hungry man could find a good cook that would bewillin' to rustle some grub, there'd be----"

  She laughed. "Right away!" she said, and went outside to perform herablutions.

  Sanderson, while she was outside, counted out ten thousand dollars andput it into a pocket. Then he piled the remainder of the money neatlyon the table. When Mary came in, her face glowing, her hair freshlycombed, he stood and looked at her with admiration in his eyes, and agreat longing in his heart.

  "I've dreamed of seein' you that way," he said.

  "As your cook?" she demanded, reddening.

  "A man's grub would taste a heap better if his wife did the cookin',"he said, his face sober.

  "Why--why--" she said; "do you mean----"

  "I wouldn't be finicky if--if my wife was doin' my cookin'," hedeclared, his own face crimson. "I wouldn't kick if she gave me thesame kind of grub every mornin'--if it was she I've wanted."

  "Why, Sanderson! Is this----"

  "It's a proposal, ma'am. I can't say what I want to say--what I'vefigured on sayin' to you. I don't seem to be able to find the words Iwanted to use. But you'll understand, ma'am."

  "That you want a cook more than you want a--a wife? Oh, Sanderson!"she mocked.

  She knew that it was bashfulness that had caused him to mention thecooking; that he had introduced the subject merely for the purpose ofmaking an oblique start; but she could not resist the temptation totaunt him.

  She looked furtively at him to see how deeply she had hurt him, but wassurprised to see him grinning widely.

  "Women ain't so wise as they pretend to be," he said. "There's grub,an' grub. An' what kind of grub is it that a man in love wants most?"

  She caught his meaning, now, and blushed rosy red, drooping her eyesfrom his.

  "That wasn't fair, Sanderson," she said lowly. "Besides, a man can'tlive on kisses."

  "I know a man who can," he smiled, his eyes eager and glowing, now thathe saw she was not going to repel him; "that is," he added lowly, "ifhe could find a cook that would give them to him whenever he wantedthem. But it would take a lot of them, an' they'd have to be givenwith the cook's consent. Do you think you could----"

  He paused and looked at her, for her eyes were shining and her lipswere pursed in a way that left no doubt of the invitation.

  "Why, Mary!" he said, as he caught her in his arms.

  For a time the money lay on the table unnoticed and forgotten, andthere was an eloquent silence in the kitchen.

  A little later, Barney Owen, passing close to the kitchenwindow--having seen the men caring for Sanderson's horse, and learningfrom them that Sanderson had come in early after having apparently beenout all night--heard Sanderson's voice issuing from the kitchen:

  "There's a difference in kisses; them that you gave me when you thoughtI was your brother wasn't half so thrillin' as----"

  Owen stiffened and stood rigid, his face whitening.

  And then again he heard Sanderson's voice:

  "There's a judge in Okar--Judge Graney. An' if you'd consider gettin'married today, ma'am, why----"

  "Why, Sanderson!" came Mary's voice in mild reproof.

  "Well, then," sounded Sanderson's voice, full of resignation this time;"have it your way; I don't want to hurry you."

  "Hurry me? Oh, no!" laughed the girl in gentle mockery. Whereat theyboth laughed. The sound of it must have pleased Owen, for he, too,laughed as he left the window and went toward the bunkhouse.

  An hour later Sanderson emerged from the house, threw saddle and bridleon Streak, and rode out into the basin to a camp where he found KentWilliams and his men. He gave the engineer the package of bills he hadtaken from the table.

  "Here is ten thousand dollars," he said. "You take your men, ride overto Lazette, get your supplies, an' hustle them right back here. Itain't likely there'll be any more trouble, but we ain't takin' anychances. My men ain't got any more cattle to bother with, an' they'llgo with you an' your men to Lazette, an' come back with the wagons tosee that they ain't interfered with. Start as soon as you can getready."

  "Within an hour the engineer, his men, and the men of the Double Aoutfit were on the move. Barney Owen did not go. He sat on one of thetop rails of the corral fence, alternately watching the men of theoutfit as they faded into the vast space toward Lazette, and MaryBransford and Sanderson, as they stood on the porch, close together,likewise watching the men.

  "I'd say--if anyone was to ask me--that there is a brother who seems tohave been forgotten," said Owen with a curious smile.