The Last Straw Part 56

Two men mounted their horses, opened the brush gate, roped the steer and dragged him, bawling, into the a.s.semblage. Jane stepped down from her rock and, with a dozen others crowding about, examined the brand.

"That's unmistakable," she said lowly as she straightened. "Part of that brand healed months ago; the rest is fresh."

She moved back to the rock on which she had stood and rested a hand on the pinto's withers.

"Oliver, what did you do?" she asked.

"I gathered the boys an' come down here as fast as I could. I saw this pen an' the calves. I sent men to both trails an' two to the Gap with orders to shoot to kill anybody that tried to get out. Then I went to Cole's house.

"Cole swore up an' down that he didn't know anything about it. His gal was there an' this here party from the east,"--with a rather contemptuous jerk of his head toward Hilton. "I brought Cole back here an' the others followed.

"Seems Webb and Hepburn an' their men was in th' Hole. I didn't know it. Th' gal ... she went to get 'em.

"It's just as well,"--dryly. "This ain't a matter that affects any one of us. It's for everybody in th' country to consider."

Hepburn stirred uneasily as Jane looked from Oliver to him.

"I think all that's necessary is to talk to Mr. Cole," she said.

The nester looked up slowly and laboriously gained his feet. He slouched toward the girl.

"I don't know nothin' about it," he said in his whining voice.

Bobby Cole took a quick step forward as he spoke, but Hepburn put out a detaining hand and muttered a word. She stopped. Her face was colorless; eyes hard and bright; she breathed quickly and seemed almost on the verge of tears.

"Who built this pen?" Jane asked.

"I don't know."

"Did you ever see it before?"

"No, I--well, I did _see_ it, but I don't know nothin' about it."

"You've been here all the Spring and didn't know anything about it?"

Her tone was sharp, decisive and the color had mounted in her face. She leaned slightly forward from the hips.

"No, I don't know nothin' about it," he protested, lifting his characterless eyes to hers.

"Who brands your cattle?"

"I do."

"No one else?"

"Not another,"--with a slow shaking of the head.

"Can you think of anybody who would put your brand on my cattle?"

"No. n.o.body would hev done that."

"But have you looked at this steer?"--indicating the yearling with the indisputable evidence on his side.

Cole lifted an unsteady hand to scratch his mustache, eyed the animal furtively and glanced at Hepburn. As their eyes met Hepburn's head moved in slight, quick negation. Ever so slight, ever so quick, but Jane Hunter saw and Hepburn saw that she saw and a guilty flush whipped into his face, spreading clear to the eyes.

"Hasn't someone been working over my brand?" she demanded, forcing Cole to look at her again.

"I don't know ... I dunno nothin' about it...."

She breathed deeply and moved a step backward.

"How do you suppose these calves come to be here? My calves, with your brand on them?"

"Them is my calves, ma'am," he protested, weakly, "Them is old brands."

"Oh, all but this yearling belong to you?"

"Yes,"--nodding his head as his confidence rallied. "Them's all mine. I branded 'em myself."

"And why do you keep them here?"

"Well, there's water an' feed an' I wanted to wean 'em--"

"And a moment ago you said you knew nothing about this pen?"

A flicker of confusion crossed the man's face and again he looked away toward Hepburn in mute appeal. Hepburn's face reflected a contempt, a wrath, and for a fraction of time Jane studied it intently, a quick hope forming in her breast. She lifted a hand to touch, in unconscious caress, the locket which was at her throat.

"Look at me, Cole!" she cried and her body trembled. Her tone was compelling, she experienced a sensation of mounting power, felt that she was dominating and without looking she knew that the men before her stirred, impressed by her rising confidence. "Look at me and answer my questions!"

Hesitatingly the man looked back and then dropped his eyes.

"Well, I said I knew it was here."

"You knew more than that. You have been using it. How long ago was it built?"

"A month--Oh, I dunno--"

"What about a month?" she insisted, gesturing bruskly. "What about a month?"

"I dunno."

She relaxed a trifle again and eyed the confused, visibly agitated man.

For a breath the place was in utter silence. The gloom deepened; the wind held off. It was as though the crisis were at hand.... And just then the man at the foot of the trail across the flat put down his rifle and said with a short laugh:

"I didn't make you out, Tom."