The Trail Horde Read online

  CHAPTER I

  CONCERNING MORALS

  There were fifty thousand acres within view of the ranchhouse--virgingrass land dotted with sage, running over a wide level, into littlehills, and so on to an upland whose rise was so gradual that it could beseen only from a distance, best from the gallery of the ranchhouse.

  The first tang of autumn was in the sage-scented breeze that swept thecounty, and the tawny valley, basking in the warm sunlight that camedown from a cloudless sky, showed its rugged beauty to advantage.

  Kane Lawler paused at the edge of the gallery and filled his lungs fromthe sage-laden breeze, and then wheeled to face his mother.

  She smiled at him.

  "Have you seen Ruth Hamlin lately, Kane?"

  Lawler's lips opened, then closed again, tightly. And by that token Mrs.Lawler knew that something Kane had been on the point of saying neverwould be said. For she knew her son as no other person in the countryknew him.

  Kane Lawler was big. From the broad shoulders that bulged the grayflannel shirt, down the yellow corduroy trousers that encased his legsto the tops of the boots with their high heels and dull-roweled spurs,Lawler looked what he was, a man who asked no favors of his kind.

  Mrs. Lawler had followed him out of the house, and she now stood nearhim, watching him.

  There was in Lawler's lean face as he turned from his mother and peeredsteadily out into the valley, a hint of volcanic force, of resistlessenergy held in leash by a contrary power. That power might have beengrim humor--for his keen gray eyes were now gleaming with something akinto humor--it might have been cynical tolerance--for his lips weretwisted into a curious, mirthless half-smile; it might have been thestern repression that had governed him all his days.

  Whatever it was it seemed to be no secret from his mother, for shesmiled understandingly, and with pride that must have been visible toanyone who watched her.

  Massed in the big valley--at a distance of two or three miles from thebig ranchhouse, was a herd of cattle. Circling them were a number ofcowboys on horses. In the huge corral that spanned a shallow, narrowriver, were other cattle. These were the result of the fall--orbeef--round-up. For a month there had been intense activity in thesection. Half the cattlemen in the county had participated in theround-up that had centered upon Lawler's range, the Circle L: and thecattle had been herded down in the valley because of its naturaladvantages.

  There the herd had been held while the neighboring cattlemen engaged inthe tedious task of "cutting out"--which meant that each cattle ownertook from the herd the steers that bore his "brand," with the additionof a proportionate number of unbranded steers, and calves, designated as"mavericks." Then the neighboring outfit had driven their stock home.

  "It was a big round-up, Kane," said Mrs. Lawler, watching the herd.

  "Eight thousand head," Lawler replied. "We're starting a thousand towardWillets today."

  "Have you seen Gary Warden? I mean, have you arranged with Warden tohave him take the cattle?"

  Lawler smiled. "I had an agreement with Jim Lefingwell. We made it earlylast spring."

  "A written agreement?"

  "Shucks--no. I never had a written agreement with Lefingwell. Never hadto. Jim's word was all I ever wanted from him--all I ever asked for."

  "But perhaps Gary Warden's business methods are different?"

  "I talked that over with Lefingwell when he sold out to Warden. Jim saidhe'd already mentioned our agreement to Warden and that Warden hadagreed to carry it out."

  "But suppose Warden has changed his mind?"

  Lawler spoke seriously. "No man goes back on his word in this country.But from what I've heard of Warden, he's likely to. If he does, we'lldrive the stock to Keppler, at Red Rock. Keppler isn't buying for thesame concern, but he'll pay what Lefingwell agreed to pay. We'll shipthem, don't worry."

  "Red Rock means a five hundred mile drive, Kane."

  Lawler replied, "You're anticipating, Mother. Warden will take them."

  Lawler grinned and stepped off the gallery. A few minutes later heemerged from the stable carrying a saddle, which he flung over one ofthe top rails of the corral fence. He roped a big, red bay, smooth, witha glossy coat that shone like a flame in the clear white light of themorning sun.

  The bay was built on heroic lines. He was tall and rangy, and the spiritof a long line of thoroughbred ancestors was in him. It showed in theclear white of his gleaming, indomitable eyes, in his thin, sensitivenostrils and long, shapely muzzle; in the contour of his head and chest,and in his slender, sinewy legs.

  Man and horse were big, capable, strong-willed. They were equipped forlife in the grim, wild country that surrounded them. From the slender,powerful limbs of the big bay, to the cartridge-studded belt thatencircled the man's middle, with a heavy pistol at the right hip, theyseemed to typify the ruggedness of the country, seemed to embody thespirit of the Wild.

  Lawler mounted, and the big bay whistled as he pranced across theranchhouse yard to the big corral where the cattle were confined. Lawlerbrought the bay to a halt at a corner of the corral fence, where hisforeman, Blackburn, who had been breakfasting in the messhouse, advancedto meet him, having seen Lawler step down from the gallery.

  Blackburn was of medium height, swarthy, with heavy brows under whichwere keen, deep-set eyes. His mouth was big, expressive, with aslightly cynical set in repose.

  "We're hittin' the trail in about an hour," said Blackburn. "Are youwantin' me to put 'em through, or are we takin' two days to it, asusual?"

  "Two days," advised Lawler. "There's no hurry. It's a bad trail inspots, and they'll want to feed. They'll stand the trip on the carsbetter if they've had plenty of grass."

  "Gary Warden is keeping Lefingwell's agreement with you, I reckon?"asked Blackburn. He eyed Lawler intently.

  "Of course." Lawler caught the expression of his foreman's eyes, and hisbrows drew together. He added: "Why do you ask?"

  "Just wonderin'," hesitated Blackburn; "just wonderin'. You seen thishere man, Warden?"

  Lawler had not met Warden; he had not even seen the man from a distance.That was because he had not visited Willets since Warden had boughtLefingwell's ranch and assumed Lefingwell's position as resident buyerfor a big eastern live-stock company. Lawler had heard, though, thatWarden seemed to be capable enough; that he had entered upon the dutiesof his position smoothly without appreciable commotion; he had heardthat Warden, was quiet and "easy-going," and that as a cattle buyer heseemed to "know his business."

  This information had reached Lawler's ears through the medium ofneighboring cattle owners, and he was willing to accept it as accurate,though he was not prepared to form an estimate of Warden until he hadan opportunity to talk with him personally.

  "Well," went on Blackburn; "them that's looked him over don't hesitateto say he don't measure up to Jim Lefingwell's size."

  "Jim was a mighty big man--in size and principles," said Lawler.

  "Now you're shoutin'! There wasn't no man bigger'n Jim, sideways,edgeways, or up an' down. I reckon any man would have a hard timemeasurin' up to Jim Lefingwell. Mebbe that's what's wrong with Warden.Folks has got Jim Lefingwell on their minds, an' they're not givin'Warden what's comin' to him, them bein' biased." He squinted at Lawler."Folks is hintin' that Warden don't own Jim Lefingwell's ranch a-tall;that some eastern guys bought it, an' that Warden's just managin' it.Seems like they's a woman at the Lefingwell's old place, keepin' Wardencompany. She's eastern, too, they say. Got a old maid with her to keepher company--a chapper-own, they say--which ain't in no waysilluminatin' my think-tank none. Which is a chapper-own?"

  "A kind of a moral monitor, Blackburn," grinned Lawler. "Some folks needthem. If you're thinking of getting one----"

  "Bah!" Blackburn's eyes were vitriolic with disgust. "I sabe what youare hintin' at when you gas of morals--which I'm a heap acquainted withbecause I ain't got none to speak of. But I'm plumb flabbergasted whenyou go to connectin' a battleship with anything that's got a whole lotto do wi
th morals. Accordin' to my schoolin', a monitor is a thingwhich blows the stuffin' out of----"

  "A monitor of morals could do that," gravely said Lawler. "In fact,according to the best authorities, there have been many monitors whohave blown the stuffing out of the reputations of their charges."

  Blackburn gulped. He was puzzled, and his eyes were glazed with theincomprehension which had seized him. Twice again as he watched Lawler'sgrave face he gulped. And then he eyed Lawler belligerently.

  "I reckon them monitors is eastern. I've never seen one galivantin'around these parts."

  "They're a lot eastern," assented Lawler. "I've never seen one, but I'veread about them in books. And once my mother saw one--she tells me theEast raises them by the hundred."

  "That accounts for it," declared Blackburn; "anything which comes fromthe East is likely to be a heap shy on hoss sense."

  He now squinted at Lawler, watching him keenly.

  "Accordin' to report Joe Hamlin ought to go around draggin' one of themmonitors."

  Blackburn shrewdly noted the quickening of Lawler's eyes, and the dullred that stole into his face.

  "What do you mean, Blackburn?"

  "Davies an' Harris hit town ag'in last night; an' comin' back they runplumb into Joe Hamlin. He was in the upper end of the box arroyo. He'droped an' hog-tied a Circle L cow an' was blottin' our brand out."

  "What happened?" Lawler's lips were set in grim lines.

  "Nothin'--followin' your orders regardin' the cuss. Davies an' Harrislet him go--after warnin' him. Somethin' ought to be done. It ain'taddin' a heap to the morals of the outfit for the men to know a man canrustle cattle that promiscuous--an' the boss not battin' an eyewinker.This is the fourth time he's been caught with the goods--to say nothin'of the times he's done it without nobody gittin' wise--an' the boys isbeginnin' to ask questions, bein' a heap puzzled because somethin' don'thappen to Joe."

  Lawler's face was expressionless. Except for the flush in his cheeks heseemed to be unaffected by Blackburn's words. His voice was a triflecold when he spoke:

  "I'll attend to Hamlin. I'll stop at the Two Bar on my way to Willets.By the time you reach town with the cattle I'll have the deal withWarden clinched."

  Blackburn nodded, and Lawler wheeled the bay, heading him northward.

  As he rode, Lawler's face changed expression. He frowned, and his lipsset stiffly.

  What he had been almost on the point of telling his mother was that heknew why Ruth Hamlin had refused him. It was pride, nothing less. Lawlersuspected that Ruth knew her father was a rustler. In fact, there hadbeen times when he had seen that knowledge lying naked in her eyes whenshe looked at her parent. Accusation and disgust had been there, butmingling with them was the persistent loyalty that had always governedthe girl; the protective instinct, and a hope of reformation.

  The pride that Mrs. Lawler had exhibited was not less strong in thegirl's heart. By various signs Lawler knew the girl loved him; he knewit as positively as he knew she would not marry him while the stigma ofguilt rested upon her parent. And he was convinced that she was ignorantof the fact that Lawler shared her secret. That was why Lawler hadpermitted Hamlin to escape; it was why he had issued orders to his mento suffer Hamlin's misdeeds without exacting the expiation that customprovided. Lawler did not want Ruth to know that he knew.

  He sent the big bay forward at a steady, even pace, and in an hour hehad crossed the sweep of upland and was riding a narrow trail thatveered gradually from the trail to Willets. The character of the landhad changed, and Lawler was now riding over a great level, thicklydotted with bunch grass, with stretches of bars, hard sand, clumps ofcactus and greasewood.

  He held to the narrow trail. It took him through a section of dead,crumbling lava and rotting rock; through a little stretch of timber, andfinally along the bank of a shallow river--the Wolf--which ran afterdoubling many times, through the Circle L valley.

  In time he reached a little grass level that lay close to the river. Asmall cabin squatted near the center of the clearing, surrounded byseveral outbuildings in a semi-dilapidated condition, and a corral, inwhich there were several horses.

  Lawler sent Red King straight toward the cabin. When he reached thecabin he swung off and walked toward the door, his lips set in straightlines, his manner decisive.

  He had taken only several steps when a voice greeted him, coming fromthe interior of the cabin--a man's voice, snarling, venomous:

  "You come another step, Kane Lawler, an' I'll bore you!"

  Lawler halted, facing the door. The door was closed, but a little slidein the upper part of it was open. Through the aperture projected themuzzle of a rifle, and behind the rifle appeared a man's face--dark,bearded, with eyes that gleamed with ferocious malignancy.