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It had been our first plan that C. should return immediately to V.'s boma after supplies, but in view of the abundance of game we decided to wait over a day. We much desired to get four topi, and this seemed a good chance to carry some of them out. Also we wished to decide for certain whether or not the hartebeeste here was really of the Neuman variety. We had great luck.
Deny it. What do we care? ... We've got you, Neuman," burst out Anderson, his heavy voice ringing with passion. "But it's not your low-down plot thet's r'iled me. There's been a good many men who've tried to do away with me. I've outplayed you in many a deal. So your personal hate for me doesn't count. I'm sore an' you an' me can't live in the same place, because you're a damned traitor.
Presently Neuman returned to the desk and said something to old Dorn, who shook his head emphatically, and then threw himself into a chair, in a brooding posture that Kurt knew well. He had seen it so often that he knew it had to do with money. His father was refusing demands of some kind. Neuman again left the office, this time with the proprietor. They were absent some little time.
By its glow he recognized his father's huge frame, back to him, and the burly Neuman on the other side, and Glidden, whose dark face was working as he talked. These three were sitting, evidently on a flat pile of ties, and the other two men stood behind. Kurt could not make out the meaning of the low voices. Pressing closer to the freight-car, he cautiously and noiselessly advanced.
With a violent start Neuman looked out to see the ghastly placarded figure, and then he sank slowly back in his seat. The cowboys apparently took no notice of him. They seemed to have forgotten his presence. "Funny they'd cut all the other I.W.W.'s down an' leave Glidden hangin' there," observed Bill. "Them vigilantes sure did it up brown," added Andy. "I was dyin' to join the band.
However familiar his type was to Anderson, it was strange to Neuman. The cowboy breathed a potential force. The least significant thing about his appearance was that swinging gun. He seemed cool and easy, with hard, keen eyes. Neuman's face took a shade off color. "But I'm going to harvest to-day," he said. "I'm late. I've a hundred hands coming." "Nope. You haven't none comin'," asserted Jake.
"Which one?" queried the proprietor, with shrewd eyes, taking Kurt's measure. "You're in on both, of course." "Sure. I mean the wheat sale, not the I.W.W. deal," replied Kurt. He hazarded a guess with that mention of the I.W.W. No sooner had the words passed his lips than he divined he was on the track of sinister events. "Your father sold out to that Spokane miller. No, Neuman is not in on that."
It was plain that Anderson made a great effort at restraint. But he failed. And perhaps the realization that he could not kill this man liberated his passion. Then the two big ranchers faced each other Neuman livid and shaking, Anderson black as a thunder-cloud. "Neuman, you hatched up a plot with Glidden to kill me," said Anderson, bitterly. Neuman, in hoarse, brief answer, denied it. "Sure!
I've been sent over to tell you thet you're wanted pretty bad at 'Many Waters." The man stared incredulously. "What?... Who wants me?" "Anderson. An' I reckon there's more though I ain't informed." Neuman rumbled a curse. Amaze dominated him. "Anderson!... Well, I don't want to see him," he replied. "I reckon you don't," was the cowboy's cool reply. The rancher looked him up and down.
"All right, father," replied Kurt, and, turning on his heel, he strode outdoors. When he got beyond the light he turned and went back to a position where in the dark he could watch without being seen. His father and the hotel proprietor were again engaged in earnest colloquy. Neuman had disappeared. Kurt saw the huge shadow of a man pass across a drawn blind in a room up-stairs.
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