CHAPTER XIV
TEE VOICE OF THE COYOTE
When Sanderson regained consciousness he was lying on his back on aboard floor. His head seemed to have been smashed, he was dizzy andweak, but he sat up and looked around him.
Then he grinned wanly.
He was in jail. A heavy, barred door was in front of him; turning hishead he saw an iron-grated window behind him. Door and window were setin heavy stone walls; two other stone walls, with a narrow iron cot setagainst one of them, rose blankly on either side.
Sanderson got up, reeling, and went to the window. Darkness had come;he could see Okar's lights flickering and winking at him from thebuildings that skirted the street. Various sounds reached hisears--Okar's citizens were enjoying themselves.
Sanderson did not watch the lights long. He walked to the cot, seatedhimself on its edge, rested his elbows on his knees and his chin in theupturned palms of his hands and reflected on what had occurred to him.
Remembering the four thousand dollars in bills of large denominationthat Burroughs had paid him when leaving the Pig-Pen, his hand went tothe money belt around his waist.
Belt and money were gone!
Sanderson got up again, walked to the door and called.
A heavy-featured man slouched down the corridor and halted near thedoor.
"Awake, eh?" he grinned. "Dale sure did hand it to you--now, didn'the? Well," he added as Sanderson's lips straightened at his words,"what's eatin' you?"
"I had a belt with some money in it--four thousand. What's become ofit?"
"Four thousand!" the man jeered. "That bump on the head is stillaffectin' you, I reckon. Four thousand--shucks!" He laughed. "Well,I ain't seen it--if that's any consolation to you. If you'd had itwhen you come here I'd sure seen it."
"Who brought me here?"
"Dale and his first deputy--the guy you poked in the stummick, over inthe Okar Hotel. They tell me you fi't like hell! What's Dale gotag'in' you? Be sure was some het up about you."
Sanderson did not answer. He turned his back to the jailer and walkedto the cot, again sitting on its edge. He heard the jailer sniffcontemptuously, but he paid no attention to him.
Prominent in Sanderson's thoughts was the realization that Dale hadtaken his money. He knew that was the last of it--Dale would not admittaking it. Sanderson had intended to use the four thousand on theDouble A irrigation project. The sum, together with the three thousandhe meant to draw from the Okar bank, would have been enough to make adecent start.
Sanderson had some bitter thoughts as he sat on the edge of the cot,all of them centering around Dale, Silverthorn, Maison, Owen, MaryBransford, and himself. He realized that he had been defeated in thefirst clash with the forces opposed to him, that Owen had turnedtraitor, that Mary Bransford's position now was more precarious than ithad been before his coming, and that he had to deal with resourceful,desperate, and unscrupulous men.
And yet, sitting there at the edge of the cot, Sanderson grinned. Thegrin did not make his face attractive, for it reflected something ofthe cold, bitter humor and savage passion that had gripped his soul.
At noon the next day Sanderson, looking out of the window of his cell;heard a sound at the door. He turned, to see Silverthorn standing inthe corridor.
Silverthorn smiled blandly at him.
"Over it, I see," he said. "They used you rather roughly, eh? Well,they tell me you made them step some."
Sanderson deliberately turned his back and continued to look out of thewindow.
"On your dignity, eh?" sneered Silverthorn. "Well, let me tell yousomething. We've heard a lot about you--from Dal Colton and BarneyOwen. Morley--one of our men--got Owen soused last night, as perorders, and Owen spilled his knowledge of you all over the town. It'spretty well known, now, that you are Deal Sanderson, from downTombstone way.
"I don't know what your game was, but I think it's pretty well queeredby now. I suppose you had some idea of impersonating Bransford, hopingto get a slice of the property. I don't blame you for trying. It wasup to us to see that you didn't get away with it.
"But we don't want to play hog. If you'll admit before a notary thatyou are not Will Bransford we'll hand you back the four thousand Daletook from you, give you ten thousand in addition and safe conduct outof the county. That strike you?"
Sanderson did not answer.
Silverthorn's face reddened. "You're a damned fool!" he sneered,venomously. "We'll keep you in jail here for a thousand years, ifnecessary. We'll do worse!
"Look here!" he suddenly said. But Sanderson did not turn.Silverthorn rattled a paper.
"Here's a withdrawal slip on the Okar bank, calling for three thousandtwo hundred dollars, signed by Will Bransford. Barney Owen drew themoney last night and blew it in gambling and drinking. He says he'sbeen signing Bransford's name--forging it--at your orders. Thesignature he put on this paper is a dead ringer for the one on theregistry blank you gave Dale.
"Dale saw Owen sign that. That's why he knew you are not WillBransford. Understand? Maison will swear you signed the withdrawalslip and got the money. We'll prove that you are not Bransford, andyou'll go to the Las Vegas pen for twenty years! Now, let's talkbusiness!"
Sanderson turned. There was a mirthless grin on his face. He spokeloudly, calling the jailer.
When the latter appeared in the corridor beside Silverthorn, Sandersonaddressed him without looking at the other:
"You ain't on your job a heap, are you? There's a locoed coyotebarkin' at me through the door, there. Run him out, will you--he'sdisturbin' me plenty."
He turned from the door, stretched himself on the cot, and with hisface to the wall listened while Silverthorn cursed.