Square Deal Sanderson Read online

  CHAPTER X

  PLAIN TALK

  Barney Owen had told Sanderson of his hatred for Alva Dale, but he hadnot told Sanderson many other things. He had not told the true storyof how he came to be employed at the Double A--how Mary had come uponhim one day at a shallow crossing of the river, far down in the basin.

  Owen was flat on his stomach at the edge of the water, scooping it upwith eager handfuls to quench a thirst that had endured for days. Hehad been so weak that he could not stand when she found him, and insome way she got him on his horse and brought him to the ranchhouse,there to nurse him until he recovered his strength.

  It had been while she was caring for him that she had told him abouther fear of Dale, and thereafter--as soon as he was able to rideagain--Owen took it upon himself to watch Dale.

  In spite of his exceeding slenderness, Owen seemed to possess theendurance and stamina of a larger and more physically perfect man. Forthough he was always seen about the ranchhouse during the day--helpingat odd jobs and appearing to be busy nearly all the time--eachsucceeding night found him stealthily mounting his horse to ride to theBar D, there to watch Dale's movements.

  He had not been at the Bar D since the night before the day on which hehad left with Sanderson to go to Las Vegas, but on the second nightfollowing his return--soon after dark--he went to the stable, threwsaddle and bridle on his horse, and vanished into the shadows of thebasin.

  Later, moving carefully, he appeared at the edge of a tree clump nearthe Bar D corral. He saw a light in one of the windows of thehouse--Dale's office--and he left his horse in the shadows and stoleforward. There were two men in the office with Dale. Owen saw themand heard their voices as he crept to a point under the window in thedense blackness of the night.

  The men Dale had sent to Tucson had not required the full two weeks forthe trip; they had made it in ten days, and their faces, as they satbefore Dale in the office, showed the effects of their haste. Yet theygrinned at Dale as they talked, glowing with pride over theirachievement, but the word they brought to Dale did not please him, andhe sat glaring at them until they finished.

  "Gary Miller ain't been heard of for a month, eh?" he said. "You sayyou heard he started this way? Then where in hell is he?"

  Neither of the men could answer that question and Dale dismissed them.Then he walked to a door, opened it, and called to someone in anotherroom. Dave Silverthorn entered the office, and for more than an hourthe two talked, their conversation being punctuated with futile queriesand profanity.

  At ten o'clock the next morning Dale appeared at the Double Aranchhouse. Apparently he was willing to forgive and forget, for hegrinned at Owen, who was watching him from the door of the bunkhouse,and he politely doffed his hat to Mary Bransford, who met him at thedoor of the ranchhouse.

  "Well, Miss Mary," he said, "how does it feel to have a brother again?"

  "It's rather satisfying, Dale," smiled the girl. "Won't you get offyour horse?"

  The girl's lips were stiff with dread anticipation and dislike. Dale'smanner did not mislead her; his forced geniality, his gruff heartiness,his huge smile, were all insincere, masking evil. He seemed to herlike a big, tawny, grinning beast, and her heart thumped withtrepidation as she looked at him.

  "How's Nyland?" he asked, smiling hugely. "That was a narrowsqueak--now, wasn't it? For I found that Ben Nyland didn't brand themcattle at all--it was another man, living down the basin. That nesternear Colby's. He done it. But he sloped before we could get a rope onhim. Had a grudge against Nyland, I reckon. Sorry it happened."

  Thus he attempted to smooth the matter over. But he saw that Mary didnot believe him, and his grin grew broader.

  "Where's brother Will this mornin', Mary?" he said.

  Sanderson appeared in the doorway behind Mary.

  "You could see him if you was half lookin'," he said slowly.

  "So I could," guffawed Dale. "But if there's a pretty girl around----"

  "You come here on business, Dale?" interrupted Sanderson. "Because ifyou did," he went on before Dale could answer, "I'd be glad to get itover."

  "Meanin' that you don't want me to be hangin' around here no longerthan is necessary, eh?" said Dale.

  "You've said a heap," drawled Sanderson.

  "Well, it won't take a long time," Dale returned. "It's just this.I've got word from Las Vegas that you've swore to an affidavit sayin'that you're Will Bransford. That's all right--I ain't got nothin' tosay about that. But there's a law about brands.

  "Your dad registered his brand--the Double A. But that don't let youout. Accordin' to the law you've got to do your registerin' same asthough the brand had never been registered before. Bein' the only lawaround here--me bein' a deputy sheriff--I've got to look out for thatend of it.

  "An' so, if you'll just sign this here blank, with your name andaddress, specifyin' your brand, why, we'll call it all settled."

  And he held out a legal-looking paper toward Sanderson.

  Sanderson's lips straightened, for as his eyes met Dale's he saw thelatter's glint with a cold cunning. For an instant Sandersonmeditated, refusing to accept the paper, divining that Dale wasconcealing his real purpose; but glancing sidewise he caught a swiftwink from Owen, who had drawn near and was standing beside a porchcolumn. And he saw Owen distinctly jerk his head toward the house.

  Sanderson stepped forward and took the paper from Dale's hand. Then heabruptly strode toward the house, telling Dale to wait.

  Sanderson halted in the middle of the sitting-room as Owen entered theroom through, a rear door. Barney Owen was grinning.

  "Wants your signature, does he?" said Owen. He whispered rapidly toSanderson, and the latter's face grew pale and grim as he listened.When Owen had finished he grinned.

  "Now we'll give him Will Bransford's signature--just as he used towrite it. I've seen it more times than any other man ever saw it, andI can duplicate it to a flourish. Give me the paper!"

  He sat down at a table, where there was a pen and a bottle of ink andwrote boldly: "Will Bransford." With a grin he passed the paper back.

  Sanderson stared, then a smile wreathed his lips, for the signature wasseemingly a duplicate of that which had been written at the bottom ofthe letter Will Bransford had written to his father.

  On his way to return the paper to Dale, Sanderson paused to listenagain to Owen, who whispered to him. Sanderson stiffened, looked hardat Owen, and then grinned with straight lips. In less than no time hewas out of the house and confronting Dale.

  He watched while the latter looked at the signature; he saw theexpression of disappointment that swept over Dale's face. ThenSanderson spoke coldly:

  "Right and proper, eh, Dale? Now I'll trouble you for that letter thatmy dad dropped about a year ago--the one you picked up. It was aletter from me, an' dad had let you read it. Fork it over, or I'llbore you an' take it from your clothes!"