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But the cattleman carried away with him a conviction that the man had yielded too easily, that his restless brain would go on planning destruction for young Beaudry just the same. He was on his way up Chicito Cañon and he stopped at Rothgerber's ranch to see Beaudry. The young man was not at home. "He start early this morning to canfass for his vindmill," the old German explained.
The way you yanked me out of the sinks was painful, but thorough. I'll be a friend to Mr. Beaudry if he is of the same opinion as you. And I'll dance at his wedding when it comes off." She cried out at that, but Charlton noticed that she made no denial. Neither did Roy. He confined his remarks to the previous question, and said that he would be very glad of Charlton's friendship. "Good enough.
From the edge of the wash he made a cast toward the man in the quicksands. The loop fell short. "You'll have to get into the bed of the stream," suggested Beulah. Beaudry moved across the sand a few steps and tried again. The distance was still too great. Already he was beginning to bog down. The soles of his shoes disappeared in the treacherous sand.
Roy clung in terror to the leg of his father. Beaudry caught up the child and made a dash for the stable. He reached it, just as Sharp and his horse-wrangler were disappearing into the loft. There was no time to climb the ladder with Royal. John flung open the top of the feed-bin, dropped the boy inside, and slammed down the lid.
"Come over here, son, and tell me who you traded yore boots to." "You and Brad been taking a mud bath, Mr. Beaudry?" asked one of the Lazy Double D riders. Roy told them, with reservations, the story of the past twenty-four hours. Dave listened, an indifferent manner covering a quick interest. His young friend had done for himself a good stroke of business.
All four of them bore in mind the death of John Beaudry. His son spoke quietly. "Mr. Rutherford, I've been thinking of my father a good deal these last few days. I want to do as he would have me do about this thing. I'm not going to chop my words. He gave his life to bring law and order into this country, The men who killed him were guilty of murder. That's an ugly word, but it's the true one."
With the innocent selfishness of a child he accepted the love that sheltered him from all troubles. A valley opened below the mesa, the trail falling abruptly almost from the hoofs of the horse. Beaudry drew up and looked down. From rim to rim the meadow was perhaps half a mile across. Seen from above, the bed of it was like an emerald lake through which wound a ribbon of silver.
But something in the man his lifetime habit of facing the duty that he saw held him steady. "You got to stand the gaff, Jack Beaudry. Can't run away from your job, can you? Got to go through, haven't you? Well, then!" Peace came at last to the tormented man. He fell asleep. Hours later he opened his eyes upon a world bathed in light.
Meldrum shambled to the edge, sat down, turned, and slid into the prospect hole. "I know it's only yore little joke, Mr. Beaudry," he whined. "Mebbe I ain't jest been neighborly with you-all, but what I say is let bygones be bygones. I'm right sorry. I'll go down with you to Battle Butte and tell the boys I done wrong." "No, you'll stay here." Beaudry turned away.
Once more Roy coiled and threw the rope. Charlton caught the loop, slipped it over his head, and tightened it under his arms. "All right. Pull!" he ordered. Beaudry had no footing to brace himself. Already he was ankle-deep in the quicksand. It flashed across his mind that he could not fight his own way out without abandoning Charlton.
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