The Story of the Foss River Ranch Part 36

"I expect he'd gone before you got there, sir," put in Thompson.

"Did you find the bodies of the murdered police?" asked the doctor innocently.

"Not a sign of 'em," laughed John. "There were no dead policemen, and, what's more, there was no trace of any shooting."

The three men turned on the clerk, who felt that he must justify himself.

"There was shooting enough, sir; you mark my words. You'll hear of it to-day, sure."

"Lord" Bill walked away towards the window in disgust. The clerk annoyed him.

"No, boy, no. I'm thinking you are mistaken. I should have discovered some trace had there been any shooting. I don't deny that your story's true, but in the excitement of the moment I guess you got rattled--and saw things."

Old John laughed and turned away. At that instant Bill called them all over to the window. The bar window overlooked the market-place, and the front of Lablache's store was almost opposite to it.

Bill pointed towards the store as the three men gathered round. "Old man" Smith also ranged himself with the others.

"Look!" Bill smiled grimly.

A buckboard had just drawn up outside Lablache's emporium and two people were alighting. A crowd had gathered round the arrivals. There was no mistaking one of the figures. The doctor was the first to give expression to the thought that was in the mind of each of the interested spectators.

"Lablache!" he exclaimed in astonishment

"And Horrocks," added "Lord" Bill quietly.

"Guess he wasn't hung then after all," said "Poker" John, turning as he spoke. But Thompson had taken his departure. This last blow was too much. And he felt that it was an advantageous moment in which to retire to his employer's store, and hide his diminished head amongst the bales of dry goods and the monumental ledgers to be found there.

"That youth has a considerable imagination." The Hon. Bunning-Ford turned from the window and strolled leisurely towards the door.

"Where are you going?" exclaimed "Poker" John.

"To cook some breakfast."

"No, no, you must come up to the ranch with me. Let's go right over to the store first, and hear what Lablache has to say. Then we'll go and feed."

Bill shrugged. Then,--

"Lablache and I are not on the best of terms," he said doubtfully. He wished to go notwithstanding his demur. Besides he was anxious to go on to the ranch to see Jacky. The doubt in his tone gave John his cue, and the old man refused to be denied.

"Come along," he said, and linking his arm within the other's, he led the way over to the store; the doctor, equally eager, bringing up the rear.

Bill suffered himself to be thus led. He knew that in such company Lablache could not very well refuse him admission to his office. He had a decided wish to be present when the money-lender told his tale.

However, in this he was doomed to disappointment. Lablache had already decided upon a plan of action.

At the store the three friends made their way through the crowd of curious people who had gathered on the unexpected return of the chief actors in last night's drama; they made their way quickly round to the back where the private door was.

Lablache was within, and with him Horrocks. The heavy voice of the money-lender answered "Poker" John's summons.

"Come in."

He was surprised when the door opened, and he saw who his visitors were.

John and the doctor he was prepared for, but "Lord" Bill's coming was a different matter. For an instant he seriously meditated an angry objection. Then he altered his mind, a thing which was rare with him.

After all the man's presence could do no harm, and he felt that to object to him, would be to quarrel with the rancher. On second thoughts he would tolerate what he considered the intrusion.

Lablache was ensconced in his basket chair, and Horrocks was at the great man's desk. Neither moved as their visitors entered. The troubles of the previous night were plainly written on both men's faces. There was a haggard look in their eyes, and a generally dishevelled appearance about their dress. Lablache in particular looked unwashed and untidy.

Horrocks looked less troubled, and there was a strong air of determination about his face.

"Poker" John showed no niceness in broaching the subject of his visit.

His libations had roused him to the proper pitch for plain speaking.

"Well, what happened to you last night, Lablache? I guess you're looking about as blue as they make 'em. Say, I thought sure Retief was going to do for you when I heard about it."

"Ah. Who told you about--about me?"

"Your clerk."

"Rodgers?"

"No, Thompson."

"Ah! Have you seen Rodgers at all?"

"No." John turned to the other two. "Have you?"

Neither of the men had seen the clerk, and old John turned again to Lablache.

"Why, what's happened to Rodgers?"

"Oh, nothing. I haven't seen him since I have been back--that's all."

"Well, now tell us all about last night," went on the rancher. "This matter is going to be cleared up. I have been thinking of a vigilance committee. We can't do better."

Lablache shook his great head. To the doctor and "Lord" Bill there seemed to be an utter hopelessness conveyed in the motion.

"I have nothing to tell. Neither has Horrocks. What happened last night concerns ourselves alone. You may possibly hear more later on, but the telling by us now will do no good, and probably a lot of harm. As for your vigilance committee, form it if you like, but I doubt that you will do any good with it."

This refusal riled the old rancher. He was just in that condition when it would take little to make him quarrel. He was about to rap out an angry retort when a knock came at the part.i.tion door. It was Thompson.

He had come to say that the troopers had returned, and wanted to see the sergeant. Also to say that Rodgers was with them. Horrocks immediately went out to see them, and, before John could say a word, Lablache turned on him.

"Look here, John, for the present my lips are sealed. It is Horrocks's wish. He has a plan which he wishes to carry out quietly. The result of his plan largely depends upon silence. Retief seems to have sources of information everywhere. Walls have ears, man. Now, I shall be glad if you will leave me. I--I must get cleaned up."

John's anger died within him. He saw that Lablache was upset. He looked absolutely ill. The old man's good nature would not allow him to press this companion of his ranching life further. There was nothing left for him to do but leave.

As he rose to go, the money-lender unbent still further.

"I'll see you later, John, I may then be able to tell you more. Perhaps it may interest you to know that Horrocks has discovered the path across the keg, and--he's going to cross it. Good-by. So long, Doc."

"Very well, I shall be up at the ranch. Come along, Bill. Jacky, I expect, is waiting breakfast for us."