CHAPTER XVIII
CHECKED BY THE SYSTEM
The engineer waved a yellow paper at Sanderson and shouted:
"I just got this. I made a hit with the Okar agent last week, and hesent a man over with it. That's a damned scoundrelly bunch that'sworking against you! Do you know what they've done?"
Sanderson said nothing, and the engineer resumed, explosively:
"They've tied up your money at the Lazette bank! My material men won'tsend a pound of stuff to me until they get the cash! We'restopped--dead still!"
He passed a telegram to Sanderson, who read:
Bank here refuses to honor Sanderson's check. Claim money belongs toBransford estate. Legal tangle. Must have cash or won't send material.
THE BRANDER COMPANY.
A flicker of Sanderson's eyelids was all the emotion he betrayed toWilliams. The latter looked at him admiringly.
"By George," he said, "you take it like a major! In your shoes I'd getoff my nag and claw up the scenery!"
Sanderson smiled. After telling the engineer to do as much as he couldwithout the material, he rode on.
He had betrayed no emotion in the presence of Williams, but he wasseething with passion.
Late the next afternoon he joined Carter and the outfit. The men hadmade good use of their time, and when Sanderson arrived, the entireherd of cattle was massed on a broad level near the river. They weremilling impatiently, for the round-up had just been completed, and theywere nervous over the unusual activity.
The cowboys, bronzed, lean, and capable, were guarding the herd, ridingslowly around the fringe of tossing horns, tired, dusty, but singingtheir quaint songs.
Carter had sent the cook back to the ranchhouse during the afternoon toobtain supplies; and now the chuck wagon, with bulging sides, wasstanding near a fire at which the cook himself was preparing supper.
Carter grinned as Sanderson rode up.
"All ready!" he declared. "We sure did hump ourselves!"
Around the camp fire that night Sanderson was moody and taciturn. Hehad stretched out on his blanket and lay listening to the men until oneby one they dropped off to sleep.
Sanderson's thoughts were bitter. He felt the constricting influenceof his enemies; he was like the herd of cattle that his men had roundedup that day, for little by little Silverthorn, Dale, and Maison werecutting down his area of freedom and of action, were hampering him onall sides, and driving him to a point where he would discoverresistance to be practically useless.
He had thought in the beginning that he could devise some way to escapethe meshes of the net that was being thrown around him, but he wasbeginning to realize that he had underestimated the power and theresources of his enemies.
Maison and Silverthorn he knew were mere tentacles of the capital theyrepresented; it was their business to reach out, searching for victims,in order to draw them in and drain from them the last vestige of wealth.
And Sanderson had no doubt that they did that work impersonally andwithout feeling, not caring, and perhaps not understanding the torturesof a system--of a soulless organization seeking only financial gain.
Dale, however, was intensely human and individualistic. He was not assubtle nor as smooth as his confederates. And money was not the onlyincentive which would drive him to commit crime. He was a grosssensualist, unprincipled and ruthless, and Sanderson's hatred of himwas beginning to overshadow every other consideration.
Sanderson went to sleep with his bitter thoughts, which were temperedwith a memory of the gentle girl at whom the evil agencies of hisenemies were directed. They were eager to get possession of MaryBransford's property, but their real fight would be, and was, againsthim.
But it was Mary Bransford that he was fighting for, and if he could getthe herd of cattle to Las Vegas and dispose of them, he would beprovided with money enough to defeat his enemies. But money he musthave.
At breakfast the next morning Carter selected the outfit for the drive.He named half a dozen men, who were variously known as Buck, Andy, Bud,Soapy, Sogun, and the Kid. These men were experienced trail-herd men,and Carter had confidence in them.
Their faces, as they prepared for the trip, revealed their joy andpride over their selection, while the others, disappointment in theireyes, plainly envied their fellow-companions.
But Sanderson lightened their disappointment by entrusting them with anew responsibility.
"You fellows go back to the Double A an' hang around," he told them."I don't care whether you do a lick of work or not. Stick close to thehouse an' keep an eye on Mary Bransford. If Dale, or any of his gang,come nosin' around, bore them, plenty! If any harm comes to MaryBransford while I'm gone, I'll salivate you guys!"
Shortly after breakfast the herd was on the move. The cowboys startedthem westward slowly, for trail cattle do not travel fast, urging themon with voice and quirt until the line stretched out into a sinuouslyweaving band a mile long.
They reached the edge of the big level after a time, and filed througha narrow pass that led upward to a table-land. Again, after a time,they took a descending trail, which brought them down upon a big plainof grassland that extended many miles in all directions. Fringing theplain on the north was a range of hills that swept back to themountains that guarded the neck of the big basin at Okar.
There was timber on the hills, and the sky line was ragged withboulders. And so Sanderson and his men, glancing northward many timesduring the morning, did not see a rider who made his way through thehills.
During the previous afternoon the rider had sat on his horse in the dimhaze of distance, watching the Double A outfit round up its cattle; andduring the night he had stood on guard, watching the men around thecamp fire.
He had seen most of the Double A men return toward the ranchhouse afterthe trail crew had been selected; he had followed the progress of theherd during the morning.
At noon he halted in a screen of timber and grinned felinely.
"They're off, for certain," he said aloud.
Late that afternoon the man was in Okar, talking with Dale andSilverthorn and Maison.
"What you've been expectin' has happened," he told them. "Sanderson,Carter, an' six men are on the move with a trail herd. They're headedstraight on for Las Vegas."
Silverthorn rubbed the palms of his hands together, Maison smirked, andDale's eyes glowed with satisfaction.
Dale got up and looked at the man who had brought the information.
"All right, Morley," he said with a grin. "Get going; we'll meet upwith Sanderson at Devil's Hole."