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Updated: May 17, 2025
He knew that Leviatt had been the instrument that had caused the gates to close; he knew that it had been he who had dropped the word that had caused the finger of accusation to point to him. "Stafford didn't hire you to do it," Mary Radford had said, ironically. The words rang in his ears still. Who had told her that Stafford had hired him to shoot Radford? Surely not Stafford.
Until he discovered the identity of the rider he must remain absolutely in the dark concerning Leviatt's motive in concealing the name of this other actor in the incident. He was positive that Leviatt knew the rider, but he was equally positive that Leviatt would keep this knowledge to himself. But on this morning he was not much disturbed over the mystery. Other things were troubling him.
This had been a signal that had previously been agreed upon. Tucson caught it and turned slightly, letting one hand fall to his right hip, immediately above the butt of his pistol. "Hell!" sneered Leviatt, "you're seein' a heap of things since you've been runnin' with Mary Radford!" Ferguson laughed mockingly. "Mebbe I have," he returned.
Before he reached it he saw Leviatt unsaddling at the corral gate. When Ferguson, with his saddle on his shoulder, on his way to place it on its accustomed peg in the lean-to adjoining the bunkhouse, passed Rope, it was by the merest accident that one of the stirrups caught the cinch buckle of Rope's saddle. Not observing the tangle, Ferguson continued on his way.
"I reckon them boys didn't make good with her. An' I expect that some day Leviatt will find he's been wastin' his time." He frowned at thought of Leviatt and unconsciously his spurs drove hard against the pony's flanks. The little animal sprang forward, tossing his head spiritedly. Ferguson grinned and patted its flank with a remorseful hand.
Leviatt may have seen him near the dead Two Diamond cow, but he certainly was not aware that Ferguson knew he himself had been there during the time that the rustler had been at work. Practically, of course, this knowledge would avail Ferguson little.
He sheathed his gun and deliberately turned his back on Leviatt. The latter stood silent for a moment, his face gradually paling. Then he turned to where Tucson had taken himself and with his friend entered the bunkhouse. In an instant the old talk arose and the laughter, but many furtive glances swept Ferguson as he stood, talking quietly with Rope.
"You ain't givin' Tucson no chancst to say you drawed first?" he warned. Rope laughed grimly. "If there's any shootin' goin' on," he replied, "Tucson ain't goin' to say nothin' after it's over." "Well, so-long," said Ferguson, urging his pony forward. He heard Rope's answer, and then rode on, deeply concerned over his discovery. Leviatt and Tucson had ridden up the river the day before.
"An' I reckon that I ain't shot off about it unless I've been dreamin'. Accordin' to that it must have been Leviatt who told Mary Radford that I'd been hired to kill her brother." Leviatt sneered. "Suppose I did?" he returned, showing his teeth in a savage snarl. "What are you goin' to do about it?" "Nothin' now," drawled Ferguson. "I'm glad to hear that you ain't denyin' it."
He came into the room, standing near the door, his set lips moving a very little, "You heard anything from Leviatt yet?" he questioned. "Why, yes," returned Stafford, hesitatingly; "he was here, talkin' to me. Ain't been gone more'n half an hour. I reckon he's somewhere around now." "You talkin' to him, you say?" said the stray-man slowly. He smiled mirthlessly.
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