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Updated: May 2, 2025
He whispered to Sanderson, for in the latter's eyes he saw signs of a cold resolve to sift the matter to the bottom: "Look here, Square; I sure don't want none of your game. Things has been goin' sorta offish for me for a while, an' so when I meets a guy a while ago who tells me to 'git' a guy named Will Bransford pointin' you out to me when your back was turned I takes him up. I wasn't figurin' "
"Well," she said, "I did keep both. But, as I told you before, I had the Sanderson letter somewhere. I have been looking for it, but have not been able to find it." Sanderson grinned faintly and wondered what she would say if she knew what care he had taken to burn the Sanderson letter. "The letter you wrote as yourself the Bransford letter I have.
That was selfishness, of course, but it was a satisfying selfishness. It did not occur to him that Mary Bransford, for instance, or Sanderson or anybody whom he robbed could experience any emotion or passion over their losses. They might feel resentful, to be sure; but resentment could avail them little and it didn't bring the dollars back to them. He chuckled.
"I'm Bill Bransford," said Sanderson quietly, and he grinned mirthlessly at Dale over the two or three feet of space that separated them. For several seconds Dale did not speak. A crimson stain appeared above the collar of his shirt and spread until it covered his face and neck, leaving his cheeks poisonously bloated and his eyes glaring.
"It was the whisky the cursed whisky!" he whispered. "I can't let it alone I love it! And once I get a taste of it, I'm gone -I'm a stark, staring lunatic!" "I'd swear to that," grimly agreed Sanderson. "I didn't mean to say a word to anybody," wailed the little man. "Do you think I'd do anything to harm Mary Bransford after what she did for me? But I did I must have done it.
My material men won't send a pound of stuff to me until they get the cash! We're stopped dead still!" He passed a telegram to Sanderson, who read: Bank here refuses to honor Sanderson's check. Claim money belongs to Bransford estate. Legal tangle. Must have cash or won't send material. A flicker of Sanderson's eyelids was all the emotion he betrayed to Williams.
He had meant to hang Nyland, take possession of his property, and force Peggy to accept whatever conditions he cared to impose upon her. The unlooked-for appearance of Mary Bransford's brother had disturbed his plans. As a matter of fact, the coming of Bill Bransford would make it necessary for Dale to make entirely new plans. Dale was puzzled.
Miss Bransford was needing men her father yours, too, of course having passed out rather sudden. I was wanting work mighty had, and Miss Bransford took me on because I was big enough to do the work of half a dozen men." His face grew grave. Sanderson understood. Miss Bransford had hired Owen out of pity. Sanderson did not answer. The little man's face worked strangely, and his eyes glowed.
If any harm comes to Mary Bransford while I'm gone, I'll salivate you guys!" Shortly after breakfast the herd was on the move. The cowboys started them westward slowly, for trail cattle do not travel fast, urging them on with voice and quirt until the line stretched out into a sinuously weaving band a mile long.
So he retied the letters in the packet and restored the packet to its place, retaining his own letter to Bransford. Smiling grimly now, he again sought the chair near the window, lit a match, applied the blaze to the letter, and watched the paper burn until nothing remained of it but a crinkly ash. Then he smoked a cigarette and got into bed, feeling more secure.
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