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Updated: June 5, 2025
An' when you bluff, bluff hard, an' back it, or you'll drop your wad sudden. Guess I'll turn in." Joe moved off and Tresler followed. At the door of the bunkhouse they parted, for Joe slept in a lean-to against the kitchen of the rancher's house. They had said "good-night," and Joe was moving away when he suddenly changed his mind and came back again.
Sanderson and Mary Bransford had not yet settled the question regarding the disposal of the money Sanderson had received from Banker Maison. They sat on the edge of the porch, talking about it. From a window of the bunkhouse Barney Owen watched them, a pleased smile on his face. "It's yours," Sanderson told the girl. "An' we ain't trustin' that to any bank.
These were what she had been looking for. She pushed the bunkhouse mail aside, and regarded reflectively the outer covering of Jeff's letter to her father. It was not the first he had received from Jeff during the four weeks since their return home. But its bulk this time was out of the ordinary, and the carefully folded news sheet was more than interesting.
But the smile died out when he remembered he, himself, had yet to face the rancher on the delicate subject of his daughter. He remembered only too well Jake's reference to a cyclone, and he made his way to the bunkhouse with no very enlivening thoughts. In the meantime the two men he had just left remained silent until the sound of his footsteps had quite died out. Then Marbolt spoke.
And where would you 'a' been if I hadn't come siftin' along, I'd like to know? Might know you'd need a witness. Them two jiggers put together could easy make you lots of trouble. What was you thinking of, anyhow, Racey?" "How could I tell they were both gonna be together? Besides, three of the 88 boys were over in the bunkhouse. I was counting on them." "Over in the bunkhouse, huh?
He was looking away down at the bunkhouse, where a group of the men were gathered about Archie Orr, who, seated on his horse, was evidently telling his tale afresh. Diane approached him. He did not even turn to meet her. "Jake, I want Bess at once. Hitch her to the buckboard, and have her sent round to the kitchen door." "What are you goin' to do, my girl?" he asked, without shifting his gaze.
But even as he called Jake spoke. "It ain't no good," he said, in a hoarse tone. "I'm done. Done up by that lyin' son-of-a , 'Tough' McCulloch. I might 'a' known. Guess I flicked him sore." He paused as the sound of running feet came from the bunkhouse and Arizona's voice was calling to know Tresler's whereabouts. Then the foreman's great frame gave a shiver.
Oh, no!" laughed the girl in gentle mockery. Whereat they both laughed. The sound of it must have pleased Owen, for he, too, laughed as he left the window and went toward the bunkhouse. An hour later Sanderson emerged from the house, threw saddle and bridle on Streak, and rode out into the basin to a camp where he found Kent Williams and his men.
They had returned in mid-afternoon, and Stella guessed by the new note of hilarity in the bunkhouse that part of the supplies had been liquid. This had happened more than once since the big snow closed in. She remembered Charlie's fury at the logger who started Matt the cook on his spree, and she wondered at this relaxation, but it was not in her province, and she made no comment.
On the contrary, he was a particularly sober man. Tresler swiftly made up his mind. "I'm going to see what's up, Joe," he said. "Do you see? He's making for Marbolt's stable." It was almost dusk. The men had settled down to their evening's occupations. Tresler and Joe were standing alone in the shadow of the bunkhouse wall.
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