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The same man, however, had shown up three days ago and had asked for another half-dozen of the birds. There had been three white pigeons among them. He was a shifty-eyed chap, Bagley said, old brown suit, hat with a rattlesnake skin around the crown. That, point for point, spelled Donley. Lee returned with the shirt which he had ripped from his prisoner's back.
"You must have found that out pretty soon! Who told you?" Donley hesitated, his eyes running from her to the other faces about him, resting longest upon the expressionless, dead-looking eyes of Poker Face. "What difference does it make who told me?" he snapped. "Answer me," she commanded. "Who told you?" "Well," said Donley, "he did. Poker Face told me."
Again the alfalfa acreage was extended, so that each head of cattle might have its daily auxiliary fodder. Carson now agreed with Judith in the matter of holding back sales for the high prices which would come at the heels of the lean months. The man Donley, who had brought to the ranch the pigeons carrying cholera, was tried in Rocky Bend.
Lee and Carson conducted an expostulating Donley to the grain-house and jailed him wordlessly. Then Carson put a man on guard at the door, daylight though it was. When all was done he filled his pipe slowly and turned troubled eyes after Poker Face. "She made a mistake there, though," he said regretfully. "A better cow-hand I never ask to see, Bud.
Poker Face, still looking on, gave no sign of interest. "Put him in the grain-house," said Judith, her eyes bright with anger. "And see that he doesn't go Shorty's trail. Poker Face, have you anything else to say for yourself?" "No," answered Poker Face. "Then," cried Judith hotly, "you can have your time right now! Donley, here, I'll prosecute. He's going to pay for this morning's work.
The evidence, though circumstantial, was strong against him, and the prosecution was pushed hard. But it was little surprise to any one at the ranch when the trial resulted in a hung jury. The ablest lawyer in the county had defended Donley, and finally, late in August, secured his acquittal.
"See if he has got any pigeon feathers sticking to him anywhere, inside his shirt, probably. If you need any help, say so." Very gravely Bud Lee put a hand on Donley's shoulder. "Come ahead, stranger," he said quietly. "You go to hell!" cried Donley, springing away. But Bud Lee's hand was on him, and though he struggled and cursed and threatened he went with Lee into the hallway.
"Did you know this man?" Judith asked then of Poker Face, turning suddenly on him. "No," said Poker Face. Donley, having guessed wrong, flushed and dropped his head. Then he looked up defiantly and with a short, forced laugh. "Suppose I know him or don't know him," he asked with his old insolence, "whose business is it?" But Judith was giving her attention to Poker Face now.
Don't you like to see any one shoot pigeons?" Donley stared back at her insolently. "Because I didn't fall for the crowd," he retorted bluntly. "An', if you want to know, because I didn't hanker for the job when I found out who was runnin' it." "Meaning me? A girl? That it?" "You guessed it." "Who told you that I was running the outfit?" she demanded suddenly, her eyes hard on his.
Tripp, watching through the open door, smiled. Donley was on his back, Lee's knees on his chest. "I'll tell you one thing, stranger," Bud Lee was saying to him softly, as his hand tore open Donley's shirt, "you open your dirty mouth to cuss just once more in Miss Sanford's presence and I'll ruin the looks of your face for you. Now lie still, will you?"