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Updated: May 17, 2025
"Mebbe his game is to get in with the girl, figgerin' that he'll be more liable that way to get a chancst at Ben Radford. But whatever his game is, I ain't interferin'. He's got a season contract an' I ain't breakin' my word with the cuss. I ain't takin' no chances with him." Leviatt rose abruptly, his face swelling with an anger that he was trying hard to suppress.
"Leviatt ain't the only one," he was saying. "She ain't made no exception with any of the outfit. To my knowin' there's been Lon Dexter, Soapy, Clem Miller, Lazy, Wrinkles an' myself," he admitted, reddening, "been notified that we was mavericks an' needed our ears marked. An' now comes Leviatt a-fannin' right on to get his'n. An' I reckon he'll get it."
If he did this it would of course be an unworthy vengeance, and Ferguson had little doubt that any vengeance meditated by Leviatt would not be petty. Ferguson went his own way, deeply thoughtful. He was taking his time. Certain things were puzzling him. Where did Leviatt stand in this rustling business? That was part of the mystery.
How could he know that he was going to be the villain in her book soon to be written? Shall we take a peep into that mysterious note book? Yes, for later we shall see much of it. "Dave Leviatt," she had written in one place. "Age thirty-five. Tall, slender; walks with a slight stoop.
She had found her work interesting; she had become quite absorbed in it. Therefore she failed to appreciate Leviatt's sudden appearance, and with uptilted chin turned from him and pretended an interest in the rim of hills that surrounded the flat. For an instant Leviatt stood, a frown wrinkling his forehead. Then with a smile he stepped forward and seated himself beside her on the rock.
"When was you talkin' to him?" he questioned. "Yesterday." Leviatt's lips moved slightly. "An' when did you say them cattle was rustled?" he asked. "Night before last," returned Stafford. Leviatt was silent for a brief time. Then he unfolded his arms and stood erect, his eyes boring into Stafford's. "When you expectin' Ferguson?" he questioned.
Leviatt had been speaking rapidly, absorbed in his subject, assurance shining in his face. But at Miss Radford's command he broke off suddenly and stiffened, surprise widening his eyes. "You have said enough," she continued; "quite enough. I have never thought of you as a possible admirer. I certainly have done nothing that might lead you to believe I would marry you.
But since the shooting he had little doubt that Leviatt had been Tucson's companion on that day. Rope's scathing words spoken while Miss Radford had been trying to revive him . "You're a hell of a range boss," had convinced the stray-man that Leviatt had been one of the assailants.
Before the meal was finished the blacksmith poked his head in through the open doorway, calling: "Ol' Man wants to see Leviatt up in the office!" The blacksmith's head was withdrawn before Leviatt, who had heard the voice but had not seen the speaker, could raise his voice in reply. He did not hasten, however, and remained at the table with Tucson for five minutes after the other men had left.
Had Leviatt revealed an open antagonism to Rope, the latter might have known what to expect when at last the two men would reach the open range and the puncher be under the direct domination of the man he had offended. There were many ways in which a petty vengeance might be gratified. It was within the range boss's power to make life nearly unbearable for the puncher.
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