The Night Riders Part 28

"Well--Scott! it's late. What's the time? Where are the boys? What are you doing here?"

He fired his questions rapidly. But Joe was not to be hurried; neither was he going to waste precious time on unnecessary talk. So he shrugged his shoulders and indicated the departure of the men to work with a backward jerk of his head, and, while Tresler performed his brief toilet, got to business in his own way.

"Feelin' good?" he asked.

"Fair."

"Goin' right up to see Jake?"

"Yes. Where is he?"

"In his shack. Say," the old man shifted uneasily, "I've tho't a crateful sence we wus yarnin' last night, I guess. Don't git shuvin'

Jake too close agin the wall. Give him your yarn easy. Kind o' talk han'some by him. He's goin' to figger this thing out fer us. He'll git givin' us a lead, mebbe, when he ain't calc'latin' to. Savee?"

Tresler didn't answer at once; in fact, he didn't quite see the old man's point. He completed his toilet by buckling on his belt and revolver. Then he prepared to depart.

"We'll see. I intend to be governed by circ.u.mstances," he said quietly.

"Jest so. An' circ.u.mstances has the way o' governin' most things, anyways. Guess I'm jest astin' you to rub the corners off'n them circ.u.mstances so they'll run smooth."

Tresler smiled at the manner of the old man's advice, which was plain enough this time.

"I see. Well, so long."

He hurried out and Joe watched him go. Then the little man rose from his seat and went out to Teddy Jinks's kitchen on the pretense of yarning. In reality he knew that the foreman's hut was in full view from the kitchen window.

Tresler walked briskly across to the hut. He never in his life felt more ready to meet Jake than he did at this moment. He depended on the outcome of this interview for the whole of his future course. He did not attempt to calculate the possible result. He felt that to do so would be to cramp his procedure. He meant to work on his knowledge of his rival's character. Herein lay his hopes of success. It was Joe who had given him his cue. "It's the most dangerousest thing to hit a 'rattler' till you've got him good an' riled," the little man had once said. "Then he lifts an' it's dead easy, I guess. Hit him lyin', an'

ef you don't kill him, ther's goin' to be trouble. Them critters has a way of thinkin' hard an' quick or'nary." And Tresler meant to deal with Jake in a similar manner. The rest must be left to the circ.u.mstances they had discussed.

It so happened that Jake, too, was late abed that morning. Tresler found him just finishing the breakfast Jinks had brought him. Jake's surly "Come in," in response to his knock, brought him face to face with the last man he desired to see in his hut at that moment. And Tresler almost laughed aloud as the great man sprang from the table, nearly overturning it in his angry haste.

"It's all right, Jake," he said with a smile, "I come in peace."

And the other stood for a moment eyeing him fiercely, yet not knowing quite how to take him. Without waiting for an invitation his visitor seated himself on the end of the bunk and stared back squarely into the angry face. It did him good, as he remembered the events of the night before, to thus beard this man who hated him to the point of murder.

He waited for Jake to reply; and while his gaze wandered over the cruel, intolerant, overbearing face he found himself speculating as to the caste of that which lay hidden beneath the black, coa.r.s.e mat of beard.

At last the reply came, and he had expected no better.

"What in h---- are you doin' here?" Jake asked brutally. Then, as an afterthought, "Why ain't you out on the range?"

Tresler permitted himself to lounge over on his elbow and cross his legs with an aggravating air of ease.

"For much the same reason that you are only just finishing your grub.

I overslept myself."

And he watched Jake choke back the furious retort that suddenly leapt to his lips. It was evident, even to the intolerant disposition of the foreman, that it was no time for abuse and anger. This man had come to him for some particular purpose, and it behooved him to keep guard on himself. The doings of the night before were in his mind, and he realized that it would be well to meet him coolly. Therefore, instead of the outburst so natural to him, he contented himself with a cool survey of his antagonist, while he put a non-committing inquiry.

"Wal?"

And Tresler knew that his presence was accepted, and that he had scored the first point. At once he a.s.sumed a businesslike air. He sat up and generally displayed a briskness quite out of keeping with his former att.i.tude.

"I suppose I ought to apologize for my intrusion," he began, "but when you have heard my story, you will understand its necessity. I had a busy night last night."

If he had expected any effect from this announcement he was disappointed. Jake's face never for a moment relaxed its grim look of attention.

"Yes," he went on, as the foreman remained silent. "These raiders--this Red Mask, or whatever he is called--I saw him last night. I saw him here on this ranch."

Jake stirred. He eyed his companion as though he would read him through and through.

"You saw--Red Mask--last night?" he said slowly.

"Yes. I saw him and one of his satellites."

"Go on." It was all the man vouchsafed, but it spoke volumes.

And Tresler at once proceeded with his story of the midnight visit of the masked rider and his companion. He told his story in as few words as possible, being careful to omit nothing, and laying a slight stress on his own rambling in the neighborhood of the house. He was very careful to confine himself to the matter of the apparition, avoiding all allusion to the further happenings of the night. When he had finished, which he did without any interruption from the other, Jake spoke with quiet appreciation.

"An' you've brought the yarn to me. For any partic'lar reason?"

Tresler raised his eyebrows. "Certainly," he replied. "You are foreman of the ranch. Mr. Marbolt's interests are yours."

"That being so, I'd like to know what you were doing around the house at that hour of the night?" was Jake's prompt retort.

Tresler had looked for this. He knew perfectly well that Jake did not expect his question to be answered. Didn't particularly want it answered. It was simply to serve a purpose. He was trying to draw him.

"That is my affair, Jake. For the moment, at least, let us set personalities on one side. No doubt we have accounts to settle. I may as well say at once we are in each other's debt. But this matter I am speaking of is of personal interest to everybody around the district."

All the time he was speaking, Tresler was watching for the smallest change in Jake's manner. And as he went on his appreciation of the fellow's capability rose. He realized that Jake was, after all, something more than a ma.s.s of beef and muscle. As no comment was forthcoming he went on rapidly.

"Now, last night's apparition was not altogether new to me. I saw the same thing the first night I arrived on the ranch, but, being 'green'

at the time, it lost its significance. Now, it is different. It needs explaining. So I have come to you. But I have not come to you without having considered the matter as fully as it is possible for one in my position to do. Mark me carefully. I have weighed all the details of Red Mask's raids; considered them from all points. Time and place, distance, the apparitions around the ranch, for those ghostly visitors have, at times, been seen in the neighborhood by others. And all these things so tally that they have produced a conviction in my mind that there is a prime mover in the business to be found on this ranch."

"An' the prime mover?" Jake's interest had in no way relaxed. He seemed to be eager to hear everything Tresler could tell him. The latter shrugged.

"Who is there on this ranch that cannot at all times be accounted for?

Only one man. Anton--Black Anton."

A pause ensued. Tresler had played a high card. If Jake refused to be drawn it would be awkward. The pause seemed endless and he was forced to provoke an answer.

"Well?" he questioned sharply.

"Well," echoed the foreman; and the other noted the quiet derision in his tone, "seems to me you've done a deal of figgering."

Tresler nodded.

Jake turned away with something very like a smile. Evidently he had decided upon the course to be pursued. Tresler, watching him, could not quite make up his mind whether he was playing the winning hand, or whether his opponent was finessing for the odd trick. Jake suddenly became expansive.

"I'd like to know how we're standin' before we go further," he said; "though, mind you, I ain't asking. I tell you candidly I ain't got no use for you, and I guess it would take a microscope to see your affection for me. This bein' so, I ask myself, what has this feller come around with his yarn to me for? I allow there's two possible reasons which strike me as bein' of any consequence. One is that, maybe, some'eres in the back of your head, you've a notion that I know a heap about this racket, and sort o' wink at it, seein' Marbolt's blind, an' draw a bit out of the game. And the other is, you're honest, an' tryin' to play the game right. Now, I'll ask you not to get plumb scared when I tell you I think you're dead honest about this thing. If I didn't--wal, maybe you'd be lit out of this shack by now."