The Night Riders Part 29

Jake reached over to the table and picked up a plug of tobacco and tore off a chew with his great strong teeth. And Tresler could not help marveling at the pincher-like power with which he bit through the plug.

"Now, Tresler, there's that between us that can never let us be friends. I'm goin' to get level with you some day. But just now, as you said, we can let things bide. I say you're honest in this thing, and if you choose to be honest with me I'll be honest with you."

One word flashed through Tresler's brain: "finesse."

"I'm glad you think that way, Jake," he said seriously. "My object is to get to the bottom of this matter."

It was a neat play in the game, the way in which these two smoothed each other down. They accepted each other's a.s.surances with the suavity of practiced lawyers, each without an atom of credence or good faith.

"Just so," Jake responded, with a ludicrous attempt at benignity. "An'

it's due to the fact that you've been smart enough to light on the right trail, that I'm ready to tell you something I've been holding up from everybody, even Marbolt himself. Mind, I haven't got the dead-gut cinch on these folk yet, though I'm right on to 'em, sure. Anton, that's the feller. I've tracked him from the other side of the line.

His real name's 'Tough' McCulloch, an' I guess I know as much as there is to be known of him an' his history, which is pretty rotten. He's wanted in Alberta for murder. Not one, but half a dozen. Say, shall I tell you what he's doin'? He rides out of here at night, an' joins a gang of scallywag Breeds, like himself, an' they are the crowd that have been raiding all around us. And Anton--well, I'd like to gamble my last dollar he's the fellow wearing the Red Mask. Say, I knew he was out last night. He was out with two of the horses. I was around.

An' at daylight I went up to the stable while he was sleepin', an' the dog-gone fool hadn't cleaned the saddle marks from their backs. Now, if you're feeling like bearin' a hand in lagging this black son-of-a---- I'm with you fair an' square. We won't shake hands, for good reasons, but your word'll go with me."

"Nothing would suit me better."

Tresler was struggling to fathom the man's object.

"Good. Now we'll quietly go up to the stable. Maybe you can tell if a horse has been recently saddled, even after grooming?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll show you. An' mind, Marbolt hasn't ordered one of his private horses out. Nor ain't Miss Diane. It's Anton."

He rose and prepared to depart, but Tresler stayed him.

"One moment, Jake," he said. "I don't wish to give offense, but tell me why, if you have discovered so much about Anton, have you let these things go on so long? Think of the murder of Manson Orr, of Arizona's wound, of the dozen and one outrages of which even I am aware."

Jake stood silently contemplating him for a while. Nor was there any sign of his swift anger. He smiled faintly, and again Tresler noted the nasty tone of derision in his voice when he answered.

"I thought maybe you'd learnt a deal out here where you find everybody on their own. I thought you'd p'r'aps learned that it ain't wise to raise trouble till you've got the business end of your gun pointin'

right. Can't you see there's not a cent's worth of evidence against the man yet? Have you ever heard where he runs his cattle? Has anybody? Has any one ever seen under that mask? Has any one been found who could identify even his figure? No. Red Mask is a will-o'-the-wisp.

He's a ghost; and it's our business to find the body o' that ghost.

I'm not the fool to go around to Anton and say, 'You are Red Mask.'

He'd laugh in my face. An' later on I guess I'd be targettin' a shot for him. What if I rounded to the gove'nor an' got him fired? It would be the worst possible. Keepin' him here, and lying low, we have a chance of puttin' him out of business. No, sir, we're dealin' with the smartest crook west of Chicago. But I'll have him; we'll get him. I never was bested yet. An' I'll have him, same as I get any other guy that crosses me. Let's get on."

They moved out of the hut.

"It's been taking you some time, already," Tresler suggested with a smile, as they moved across the open.

Jake took no umbrage. His dark face responded with a sardonic grin, and his eyes were fiercely alight.

"Tchah!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed impatiently. "Say, you never heard tell of a feller gettin' his own good, an' gettin' it quick. Cattle-thieves ain't easy handlin', an' I don't jump till I'm riled."

Tresler made no answer, and the two reached the stable without exchanging another word. Inside they found Anton at work, cleaning harness. He looked up as they came in, and Tresler eyed him with a renewed interest. And the man's face was worth studying. There was no smile, no light in it, and even very little interest. His smooth, tawny skin and aquiline features, his black hair and blacker eyes, in their dark setting, had a devilish look to Tresler's imagination. He even found himself wondering where the good looks he had observed when they met before had vanished to. Jake nodded to him and pa.s.sed into Bessie's stall at once.

"This is the mare, Tresler, the dandiest thing ever bred on this ranch. Look at her points. See the coat, its color. Red roan, with legs as black as soot. Say, she's a picture. Now I guess she'd fetch a couple of hundred dollars away down east where you come from."

He said all this for Anton's benefit while he smoothed his hand over Bessie's back. Tresler followed suit, feeling for the impression of the saddle-cloth in the hair. It was there, and he went on inspecting the legs, with the air of a connoisseur. The other saddle-horse they treated in the same way, but the drivers were left alone. For some minutes they stood discussing the two animals and then pa.s.sed out again. Anton had displayed not the least interest in their doings, although nothing had escaped his keen, swift-moving eyes.

Once out of ear-shot Jake turned to Tresler.

"Wal?"

"The horses have both been saddled."

"Good. Now we've got the thing plumb located. You heard them ga.s.sin'

at the stable. You heard 'em slam the door. You saw the two come along. An' one of 'em must have been Anton. Leastways he must have let 'em have the hosses. I guess that's an alternative. I say Anton was up on one of them hosses, an' the other was some gorl durned Breed mate of his. Good. We're goin' right on to see the governor."

"What to do?" asked Tresler.

"To give him your yarn," Jake said shortly.

They were half-way to the house when the foreman suddenly halted and stared out over the lower ranch buildings at the distant pastures.

Tresler was slightly behind him as he stood, and only had a sight of the man's profile. He did not seem to be looking at any particular object. His att.i.tude was one of thoughtful introspection. Tresler waited. Things were turning out better than he had hoped, and he had no wish but to let the arbiter of the situation take his own way. He began to think that, whatever Jake's ulterior object might be, he was in earnest about Anton.

At last his companion grunted and turned, and he saw at once that the artificial comradeship of his manner had lifted, and the "Jake" he had already learned to understand was dominant again. He saw the vicious setting of the brows, the fiery eyes. He quite understood that self-control was the weakest side of this man's character, and could not long withstand the more powerful bullying nature that swayed him.

"I asked you a question back there," he said, jerking his head in the direction of his hut, "an' you said it was your affair; an' we'd best let personalities stand for the moment. I'd like an answer before we go further. You reckon to be honest, I guess. Wal, now's your chance.

Tell me to my face what I've learned for myself. What were you doin'

round here last night? What were you doin' in Marbolt's kitchen?"

Tresler understood the motive of the man's insistence now. Jake was showing him a side of his character he had hardly suspected. It was the human nature in the man asking for a confirmation of his worst fears, in reality his worst knowledge. For he was well aware that Jake had witnessed the scene in the kitchen.

"As I said before, it is my affair," he responded, with an a.s.sumption of indifference. "Still, since you insist, you may as well know first as last. I went to see Miss Diane. I saw her----"

"An'?" There was a tense restraint in the monosyllable.

Tresler shrugged. "Miss Marbolt is my promised wife."

There was a deathly silence after his announcement. Tresler looked out over the ranch. He seemed to see everything about him at once; even Jake was in the strained focus, although he was not looking at him.

His nerves were strung, and seemed as though they were held in a vice.

He thought he could even hear the sound of his own temples beating. He had no fear, but he was expectant.

Then Jake broke the silence, and his voice, though harsh, was low; it was m.u.f.fled with a throatiness caused by the pa.s.sion that moved him.

"You'll never marry that gal," he said.

And Tresler was round on him in an instant, and his face was alight with a cold smile.

"I will," he said.

And then Jake moved on with something very like a rush. And Tresler followed. His smile was still upon his face. But it was there of its own accord, a nervous mask which had nothing to do with the thoughts pa.s.sing behind it.

CHAPTER XIV