Square Deal Sanderson

  CHAPTER XXX

  THE LAW TAKES A HAND

  Barney Owen was tying the knot of the rope more securely when he heardthe bolt on the pantry door shoot back. He wheeled swiftly, to seeMary Bransford emerging from the pantry, her hands covering her face ina vain endeavor to shut from sight the grisly horror she had confrontedwhen she had reached her feet after recovering consciousness.

  Evidently she had no knowledge of what had occurred, for when at asound Owen made and she uncovered her eyes, she saw Owen and instantlyfainted.

  Owen dove forward and caught her as she fell, and then with a strengththat was remarkable in his frail body he carried her to the lounge inthe parlor.

  Ho was compelled to leave her there momentarily, for he stillentertained fears that Dale would escape the loop of the rope. So heran into the pantry, looked keenly at Dale, saw that, to allappearances, he was in the last stages of strangulation, and then wentout again, to return to Mary.

  But before he left Dale he snatched the man's six-shooter from itssheath, for his own had been lost in the confusion of the rush ofDale's men for the door.

  Mary was sitting up on the lounge when Owen returned. She was pale,and a haunting fear, cringing, abject, was in her eyes.

  She got to her feet when she saw Owen and ran to him, crying.

  Owen tried to comfort her, but his words were futile.

  "You be brave, little woman!" he said. "You must be brave! Sandersonand the other men are in danger, and I've got to go to Okar for help!"

  "I'll go with you," declared the girl. "I can't stay here--I won't. Ican't stand being in the same house with--with that!" She pointed tothe kitchen.

  "All right," Owen said resignedly; "we'll both go. What did you dowith the money?"

  Mary disclosed the hiding place, and Owen took the money, carried it tothe bunkhouse, where he stuffed it into the bottom of a tin food box.Then, hurriedly, he saddled and bridled two horses and led them towhere Mary was waiting on the porch.

  Mounting, they rode fast toward Okar--the little man's face workingnervously, a great eagerness in his heart to help the man for whom hehad conceived a deep affection.

  Banker Maison had made no mistake when he had told Sanderson that JudgeGraney was honest. Graney looked honest. There was about him anatmosphere of straightforwardness that was unmistakable and convincing.It was because he was honest that a certain governor had sent him toOkar.

  And Graney had vindicated the governor's faith in him. Whenever crimeand dishonesty raised their heads in Okar, Judge Graney pinned them tothe wall with the sword of justice, and called upon all men to come andlook upon his deeds.

  Maison, Silverthorn, and Dale--and others of their ilk--seldom calledupon the judge for advice. They knew he did not deal in their kind.Through some underground channel they had secured a deputyship forDale, and upon him they depended for whatever law they needed tofurther their schemes.

  Judge Graney was fifty--the age of experience. He knew something ofmen himself. And on the night that Maison and Sanderson had come tohim, he thought he had seen in Sanderson's eyes a cold menace, athreat, that meant nothing less than death for the banker, if thelatter had refused to write the bill of sale.

  For, of course, the judge knew that the banker was being forced to makeout the bill of sale. He knew that from the cold determination andalert watchfulness in Sanderson's eyes; he saw it in the whitenervousness of the banker.

  And yet it was not his business to interfere, or to refuse to attestthe signatures of the men. He had asked Maison to take the oath, andthe banker had taken it.

  Thus it seemed he had entered into the contract in good faith. If hehad not, and there was something wrong about the deal, Maison hadrecourse to the law, and the judge would have aided him.

  But nothing had come of it; Maison had said nothing, had lodged nocomplaint.

  But the judge had kept the case in mind.

  Late in the afternoon of the day on which Dale had organized the posseto go to the Double A, Judge Graney sat at his desk in the courtroom.The room was empty, except for a court attache, who was industriouslywriting at a little desk in the rear of the room.

  The Maison case was in the judge's mental vision, and he was wonderingwhy the banker had not complained, when the sheriff of Colfax entered.

  Graney smiled a welcome at him. "You don't get over this way veryoften, Warde, but when you do, I'm glad to see you. Sit on thedesk--that's your usual place, anyway."

  Warde followed the suggestion about the desk; he sat on it, his legsdangling. There was a glint of doubt and anxiety in his eyes.

  "What's wrong, Warde?" asked the judge.

  "Plenty," declared Warde. "I've come to you for advice--and perhapsfor some warrants. You recollect some time ago there was a herd ofcattle lost in Devil's Hole--and some men. Some of the men were shot,and one or two of them went down under the herd when it stampeded."

  "Yes," said the judge, "I heard rumors of it. But those things are notuncommon, and I haven't time to look them up unless the cases arebrought formally to my attention."

  "Well," resumed Warde, "at the time there didn't seem to be any clue towork on that would indicate who had done the killing. We've nothing todo with the stampede, of course--that sort of stuff is out of my line.But about the shooting of the men. I've got evidence now."

  "Go ahead," directed the judge.

  "Well, on the night of the killing two of my men were nosing around thelevel near Devil's Hole, trying to locate a horse thief who had beentrailed to that section. They didn't find the horse thief, but theysaw a bunch of men sneaking around a camp fire that belonged to theoutfit which was trailin' the herd that went down in Devil's Hole.

  "They didn't interfere, because they didn't know what was up. But theysaw one of the men stampede the herd, and they saw the rest of them dothe killing."

  "Who did the killing?"

  "Dale and his gang," declared the sheriff.

  Judge Graney's eyes glowed. He sat erect and looked hard at thesheriff.

  "Who is Sanderson?" he asked.

  "That's the fellow who bossed the trail herd."

  The judge smiled oddly. "There were three thousand head of cattle?"

  Warde straightened. "How in hell do you know?" he demanded.

  "Banker Maison paid for them," he said gently.

  He related to Warde the incident of the visit of Sanderson and thebanker, and the payment to Sanderson by Maison of the ninety thousanddollars.

  At the conclusion of the recital Warde struck the desk with his fist.

  "Damned if I didn't think it was something like that!" he declared."But I wasn't going to make a holler until I was sure. But Sandersonknew, eh? He knew all the time who had done the killing, and who hadplanned it. Game, eh? He was playing her a lone hand!"

  The sheriff was silent for a moment, and then he spoke again, a glow ofexcitement in his eyes. "But there'll be hell to pay about this! IfSanderson took ninety thousand dollars away from Maison, Maison wassure to tell Dale and Silverthorn about it--for they're as thick asthree in a bed. And none of them are the kind of men to stand for thatkind of stuff from anybody--not even from a man like Sanderson!"

  "We've got to do something, Judge! Give me warrants for the three ofthem--Dale, Maison, and Silverthorn, and I'll run them in before theyget a chance to hand Sanderson anything!"

  Judge Graney called the busy clerk and gave him brief instructions. Asthe latter started toward his desk there was a sound at the door, andBarney Owen came in, breathing heavily.

  Barney's eyes lighted when they rested upon the sheriff, for he had nothoped to see him there. He related to them what had happened at theDouble A that day, and how Dale's men had followed Sanderson and theothers to "wipe them out" if they could.

  "That settles it!" declared the sheriff. He was outside in an instant,running here and there in search of men to form a posse. He foundthem, scores of them; for in all communities where the law isrepre
sented, there are men who take pride in upholding it.

  So it was with Okar. When the law-loving citizens of the town weretold what had occurred they began to gather around the sheriff from alldirections--all armed and eager. And yet it was long after dusk beforethe cavalcade of men turned their horses' heads toward the neck of thebasin, to begin the long, hard ride over the plains to the spot whereSanderson, Williams, and the others had been ambushed by Dale's men.

  A rumor came to the men, however, just before they started, which madeseveral of them look at one another--for there had been those who hadseen Ben Nyland riding down the street toward Maison's bank in thedusk, his face set and grim and a wild light in his eyes.

  "Maison has been guzzled--he's deader than a salt mackerel!" came theword, leaping from lip to lip.

  Sheriff Warde grinned. "Serves him right," he declared; "that's oneless for us to hang!"