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She began from the time when Will had been ordered out of Barnriff, and told all the pitiful, sordid details, right down to his final return after escaping from the doctor's men at the Little Bluff River. Everything she told as she knew it, except the part Jim had played in his actual escape. This she could not bring herself to speak of.
Somehow, he could not force himself to an ordinary greeting under the circumstances. She had doubtless heard the story, so But he was quite wrong. Eve was simply wondering at his coming. Wondering what it portended. She had truly enough heard the story of the recovery of the cattle, as who in Barnriff had not? But her wonder and nervousness were not for him, but for herself.
He says he must move on keep moving. He says all that held him to Barnriff is finished with, so now there's nothing left but to hit the trail." "Poor old Peter!" Eve murmured softly. "I s'pose he means the gold business?" "Maybe," replied the man, without conviction. "Why what do you mean?" Eve's eyes were widely questioning. The other shrugged. "You can't tell.
He had a quiet humor, too, that was often far too subtle for the cruder minds of Barnriff. But most of all his sympathy was a thing that left no room for self in his thoughts. No one attempted undue familiarity with him; not that he would have been likely to actively resent it, but simply, in his presence nobody had any inclination that way.
They walked about without their customary slouch, and each man radiated an atmosphere of conscious rectitude that became almost importance. Peter Blunt, talking to Doc Crombie, said he'd never seen so many precise creases in broadcloth since he'd lived in Barnriff. There was no business to be done that day. Even Smallbones was forced to keep his doors shut, though not without audible protest.
Gee, it's a mean man that can't take his med'cine." "You needn't bark up that tree, Will," said Peter, patiently. "We're all responsible for this the whole of Barnriff." Then he smiled. "You see, Doc Crombie has approved." Then it was that Henderson saw fit to change his manner.
Is any sane rustler going to use his own brand, and run stolen cattle with his legitimate stock, in a place where folks can always see 'em? Sure, sure you don't need to ask yourselves even. Jim Thorpe's been a straight man all his days in Barnriff. 'Honest Jim Thorpe' you've all many a time called him. I tell you this thing is a put-up job.
He had enlisted himself in Eve's service for good or evil, and the only thing remaining to him was, by facing the yelping of the Barnriff pack, with a dogged, defiant front, to attempt to live down his disgrace. In this, to his simple mind, there was one great thing in his favor. The cattle stealing was at an end. There would be no further depredations.
"Now I'm going to the bluff out back to kill your brother, your beloved Elia. Then I'm coming back to kill you," he whispered. And the next moment he was gone. It was with no very cheerful feelings that Jim Thorpe approached Barnriff once more.
It was Abe Horsley who explained. "McLagan came in looking for him. Jim's only got the week old stuff. The news hit the ranch at sundown to-day." Peter nodded. "I see." "You'll see more, Peter," broke in Smallbones viciously. "You'll see a vigilance committee right here, if this gambol don't quit. Barnriff don't stand for cattle-duffin' worth a cent."
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