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He squinted at Lawler. "Folks is hintin' that Warden don't own Jim Lefingwell's ranch a-tall; that some eastern guys bought it, an' that Warden's just managin' it. Seems like they's a woman at the Lefingwell's old place, keepin' Warden company. She's eastern, too, they say. Got a old maid with her to keep her company a chapper-own, they say which ain't in no ways illuminatin' my think-tank none.
He stopped at Hanrahan's saloon, finding Lefingwell there and talking with him for a few minutes. Lefingwell's docile attitude disgusted him he said he had talked the matter over with a number of the other owners, and they had expressed themselves as being in favor of awaiting the result of his appeal.
Between himself and Singleton there had always been a lack of ordinary cordiality, a constraint closely approaching dislike; but Lawler had never entertained a suspicion that Lefingwell's range boss was dishonest. Hamlin was a moral weakling, he knew. Everybody in the Wolf River section knew it.
It's a bad trail in spots, and they'll want to feed. They'll stand the trip on the cars better if they've had plenty of grass." "Gary Warden is keeping Lefingwell's agreement with you, I reckon?" asked Blackburn. He eyed Lawler intently. "Of course." Lawler caught the expression of his foreman's eyes, and his brows drew together. He added: "Why do you ask?"
A voice boomed hoarsely, commandingly, above the buzz of many others it was Lefingwell's, and she cringed at the sound of it. There was a concerted movement; the Vigilantes were shoving the crowd back, clearing a space in the center. In the cleared space two men were lifting Corrigan to his feet.
"Just wonderin'," hesitated Blackburn; "just wonderin'. You seen this here man, Warden?" Lawler had not met Warden; he had not even seen the man from a distance. That was because he had not visited Willets since Warden had bought Lefingwell's ranch and assumed Lefingwell's position as resident buyer for a big eastern live-stock company.
He turned and looked back at Warden, puzzled, for it seemed to him that Warden was defying him; and he seemed to feel the atmosphere of complacence that surrounded the man. His manner hinted of secret knowledge strongly; it gave Lawler an impression of something stealthy, clandestine. Warden's business methods were not like Lefingwell's.
He had come to Warden's office with an open mind; now he looked at the man with a saturnine smile in which there was amused contempt. Assuredly the new buyer did not "measure up" to Jim Lefingwell's "size," as Blackburn had suggested.
As long as I am resident buyer at Willets you'll never ship a hoof through me. Understand that! You can drive to Red Rock and be damned! If you'd been halfway decent about this thing; if you hadn't come swaggering into my office trying to dictate to me, and calling me a liar, I'd have kept Lefingwell's agreement with you!" "Then Lefingwell wasn't the liar," smiled Lawler; "you're admitting it."
"Unfortunately, a man's word is not conclusive proof." "Meaning that Jim Lefingwell was lying when he told you he'd agreed to pay thirty dollars for my stock this fall?" "Oh, no. I don't insinuate against Lefingwell's veracity. But the company requires a written agreement in a case like this where the former representative " "We won't argue that," interrupted Lawler.
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