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Dixon swung from the saddle, and faced the other doggedly. "That calf you're driving now is rustled. You branded it less than two hours ago in Spring Valley, right by the three cottonwoods below the trail to Yeager's Spur." "How do you know?" cried the startled youth. And on the heels of that: "It's a lie!" He was getting a better grip on his courage.
Get me some water, Morgan, and I'll take a look at Mr. Yeager's head. Philips, find Jimmie. Alderson, will you keep guard for the present? You'd better get back to bed, Dugan. I want to say that each one of you deserves a medal. If the treasure is ever found I promise, on behalf of Miss Wallace, that every honest man shall share in it."
There was room for two abreast, and he chose to ride beside her. "So you tied me up because it was your Christian duty," he soliloquized aloud. "Just the same as if I had been a mangy coyote that was suffering." "Exactly." He let his cool eyes rest on her with a hint of amusement. "And what were you thinking of doing with me now, ma'am?" "I'm going to take you up to Jim Yeager's mine.
She had been agile-minded enough to shift the attack and put him upon the defensive, but now Healy brought the question back to his original point. "That's all very well, Phyl, but we weren't talking about me, but about you. When you found this Keller making his escape you buckled in and helped him. You tied up his wound and took him to Yeager's and lied for him to us.
Adroitly he bound Yeager's arms to his side by winding the rope round and round his body, after which he knotted it tightly several times at a point just between the shoulder blades. The range-rider observed that he was a heavy-set, powerful man of about his own height. He wore plain shiny leather chaps and the usual high-heeled boots of a cowpuncher.
Two riders followed the trail to Yeager's Spur one a man, brown and forceful; the other a girl, with sunshine in her dancing eyes and a voice full of the lilt of laughter. What they might come to be to each other both were already speculating about, though neither knew as yet. They were the best of friends good comrades, save when chance eyes said unguardedly too much.
She looked so definitely unaware of him as she worked that he fell back from the window and passed out to the porch. He had found out more than he wanted to know. Jim Yeager's drawling voice came to him, gentle and low as usual, but with an edge to it. "I been discoverin' I'm some unpopular to-day, Brill. Malpais has been expressin' its opinion right plain.
A quarter of an hour later he swung from the saddle beside Threewit. "Plumb gentle. You can make any horse a devil when you're one yourself." They were standing in front of the stable. Threewit started to reply, but the words were taken out of his mouth. From out of the stable strode Harrison, a cold anger in his eyes. "That's your opinion, is it?" Yeager's light blue eyes met his steadily.
Dragging his pony to a slithering halt, he leaped to the ground. "Get busy, Jackson. You ain't in a restaurant waiting for a meal," the little fat man reminded one of his tools irritably. Then, as he caught sight of Steve, "What the hell!" Yeager's left shot forward, all the weight and muscle of one hundred and seventy pounds of live cowpuncher behind it.
But as soon as he was out of sight, Steve doubled across the road into the alley that ran back of the house where Pasquale was putting up. The news about Harrison's return was disquieting. Ever since Yeager's second arrival at Noche Buena he had been gone. What did his appearance now mean? Who was the American woman he had brought back with him?
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