CHAPTER XI
HAGAR'S EYES
Randerson had been in no hurry to make an attempt to catch the rustlerswhose depredations he had reported to Ruth. He had told the men to bedoubly alert to their work, and he had hired two new men--from theDiamond H--to replace those who had left the Flying W. His surmise thatthey wanted to join Chavis had been correct, for the two new men--whom hehad put on special duty and had been given permission to come and go whenthey pleased--had reported this fact to him. There was nothing to do,however, but to wait, in the hope that one day the rustlers would attemptto run cattle off when one or more of the men happened to be in thevicinity. And then, if the evidence against the rustlers were convincingenough, much would depend on the temper of himself and the men as towhether Ruth's orders that there should be no hanging would be observed.There would be time enough to decide that question if any rustlers werecaught.
He had seen little of the Easterner during the past two or three weeks.Masten rarely showed himself on the range any more--to Randerson'squeries about him the men replied that they hadn't seen him. ButRanderson was thinking very little about Masten as he rode through thebrilliant sunshine this afternoon. He was going again to Catherson's, tosee Hagar. Recollections of the change that had come over the girl weredisquieting, and he wanted to talk to her again to determine whether shereally had changed, or whether he had merely fancied it.
Far down the river he crossed at a shallow ford, entered a section oftimber, and loped Patches slowly through this. He found a trail that hehad used several times before, when he had been working for the Diamond Hand necessity or whim had sent him this way, and rode it, noting that itseemed to have been used much, lately.
"I reckon old Abe's poundin' his horses considerable. Why, it's rightplain," he added, after a little reflection, "this here trail runs intothe Lazette trail, down near the ford. An' Abe's wearin' it out, ridin'to Lazette for red-eye. I reckon if I was Abe, I'd quit while thequittin's good." He laughed, patting Patches' shoulder. "Shucks, a manc'n see another man's faults pretty far, but his own is pretty nearinvisible. You've rode the Lazette trail a heap, too, Patches," he said,"when your boss was hittin' red-eye. We ain't growin' no angels' wings,Patches, which would give us the right to go to criticizin' others."
Presently he began to ride with more caution, for he wanted to surpriseHagar. A quarter of a mile from the cabin he brought Patches to a halt ona little knoll and looked about him. He had a good view of the cabin inthe clearing, and he watched it long, for signs of life. He saw no suchsigns.
"Abe's out putterin' around, an' Hagar's nappin', I reckon--or tryin' onher new dresses," he added as an after-thought.
He was about to ride on, when a sound reached his ears, and he drew thereins tight on Patches and sat rigid, alert, listening.
The perfect silence of the timber was unbroken. He had almost decidedthat his ears had played him a trick when the sound came again, nearerthan before--the sound of voices. Quickly and accurately he determinedfrom which direction they came, and he faced that way, watching a narrowpath that led through the timber to a grass plot not over a hundred feetfrom him, from which he was screened by some thick-growing brush at hisside.
He grinned, fully expecting to see Abe and Hagar on the path presently."Abe's behavin' today," he told himself as he waited. "I'll sure surprisethem, if--"
Suddenly he drew his breath sharply, his teeth came together viciously,and his brows drew to a frown, his eyes gleaming coldly underneath. Forhe saw Willard Masten coming along the path, smiling and talking, andbeside him, his arm around her waist, also smiling, but with her headbent forward a little, was Hagar Catherson.
The color slowly left Randerson's face as he watched. He had no nicescruples about eavesdropping at this moment--here was no time formanners; the cold, contemptuous rage that fought within him was too deepand gripping to permit of any thought that would not center about the twofigures on the path. He watched them, screened by the brush, with thedeadly concentration of newly aroused murder-lust. Once, as he saw themhalt at the edge of the grass plot, and he observed Masten draw Hagarclose to him and kiss her, his right hand dropped to the butt of hispistol at his right hip, and he fingered it uncertainly. He drew the handaway at last, though, with a bitter, twisting smile.
Five minutes later, his face still stony and expressionless, hedismounted lightly and with infinite care and caution led Patches awayfrom the knoll and far back into the timber. When he was certain therewas no chance of his being seen or heard by Masten and Hagar, he mounted,urged Patches forward and made a wide detour which brought him at lengthto the path which had been followed by Masten and Hagar in reaching thegrass plot. He loped the pony along this path, and presently he came uponthem--Hagar standing directly in the path, watching him, red withembarrassment which she was trying hard to conceal; Masten standing onthe grass plot near her, staring into the timber opposite; Randerson,trying to appear unconcerned and making a failure of it.
"It's Rex!" ejaculated the girl. Her hands had been clasped in front ofher; they dropped to her sides when she saw Randerson, and her fingersbegan to twist nervously into the edges of her apron. A deep breath,which was almost a sigh of relief, escaped her. "I thought it was Dad!"she said.
Evidently Masten had likewise expected the horseman to be her father, forat her exclamation he turned swiftly. His gaze met Randerson's, hisshoulders sagged a little, his eyes wavered and shifted from the steadyones that watched him.
His composure returned quickly, however, and he smiled blandly, but therewas a trace of derision in his voice:
"You've strayed off your range, haven't you, Randerson?" he saidsmoothly.
"Why, I reckon I have." Randerson's voice was low, almost gentle, and hesmiled mildly at Hagar, who blushingly returned it but immediately lookeddownward.
"I expect dad must be gone somewhere--that you're lookin' for him,"Randerson said. "I thought mebbe I'd ketch him here."
"He went to Red Rock this mornin'," said the girl. She looked up, andthis time met Randerson's gaze with more confidence, for his pretense ofcasualness had set her fears at rest. "Mr. Masten come over to see him,too."
The lie came hesitatingly through her lips. She looked at Masten asthough for confirmation, and the latter nodded.
"Catherson is hard to catch," he said. "I've been over here a number oftimes, trying to see him." His voice was a note too high, and Randersonwondered whether, without the evidence of his eyes, he would havesuspected Masten. He decided that he would, and his smile was a triflegrim.
"I reckon Catherson is a regular dodger," he returned. "He's alwaysgallivantin' around the country when somebody wants to see him." Hesmiled gently at Hagar, with perhaps just a little pity.
"It's getting along in the afternoon, Hagar," he said. "Dad ought to beamblin' back here before long." His face grew grave at the frightenedlight in her eyes when he continued: "I reckon me an' Masten better waitfor him, so's he won't dodge us any more." He cast a glance around him."Where's your cayuse?" he said to Masten.
"I left him down near the ford," returned the other.
"Right on your way back to the Flyin' W," said Randerson, as though thediscovery pleased him. "I'm goin' to the Flyin' W, too, soon as I seeCatherson. I reckon, if you two ain't got no particular yearnin' to goprowlin' around in the timber any longer, we'll all go back toCatherson's shack an' wait for him there. Three'll be company, while it'dbe mighty lonesome for one."
Masten cleared his throat and looked intently at Randerson'simperturbable face. Did he know anything? A vague unrest seized Masten.Involuntarily he shivered, and his voice was a little hoarse when hespoke, though he attempted to affect carelessness:
"I don't think I will wait for Catherson," he said, "I can see himtomorrow, just as well."
"Well, that's too bad," drawled Randerson. "After waitin' this long, too!But I reckon you're right; it wouldn't be no use waitin'. I'll go too, Ireckon. We'll r
ide to the Flyin' W together."
"I don't want to force my company on you, Randerson," laughed Mastennervously. "Besides, I had thought of taking the river trail--back towardLazette, you know."
Randerson looked at him with a cold smile. "The Lazette trail suits metoo," he said; "we'll go that way."
Masten looked at him again. The smile on Randerson's face wasinscrutable. And now the pallor left Masten's cheeks and was succeeded bya color that burned. For he now was convinced and frightened. He heardRanderson speaking to Hagar, and so gentle was his voice that it startledhim, so great was the contrast between it and the slumbering threat inhis eyes and manner:
"Me an' Masten is goin' to make a short cut over to where his horse is,Hagar; we've changed our minds about goin' to the shack with you. We'vedecided that we're goin' to talk over that business that he come hereabout--not botherin' your dad with it." His lips straightened at thestartled, dreading look that sprang into her eyes. "Dad ain't goin' toknow, girl," he assured her gravely. "I'd never tell him. You go back tothe shack an' pitch into your work, sort of forgettin' that you ever sawMr. Masten. For he's goin' away tonight, an' he ain't comin' back."
Hagar covered her face with her hands and sank into the grass beside thepath, crying.
"By God, Randerson!" blustered Masten, "what do you mean? This is goingtoo--"
A look silenced him--choked the words in his throat, and he turnedwithout protest, at Randerson's jerk of the head toward the ford, andwalked without looking back, Randerson following on Patches.
When they reached the narrow path that led to the crossing, just beforeentering the brush Randerson looked back. Hagar was still lying in thegrass near the path. A patch of sunlight shone on her, and so clear wasthe light that Randerson could plainly see the spasmodic movement of hershoulders. His teeth clenched tightly, and the muscles of his face cordedas they had done in the Flying W ranchhouse the day that Aunt Martha hadtold him of Pickett's attack on Ruth.
He watched silently while Masten got on his horse, and then, stillsilent, he followed as Masten rode down the path, across the river,through the break in the canyon wall and up the slope that led to theplains above. When they reached a level space in some timber that fringedthe river, Masten attempted to urge his horse through it, but was broughtto a halt by Randerson's voice:
"We'll get off here, Masten."
Masten turned, his face red with wrath.
"Look here, Randerson," he bellowed; "this ridiculous nonsense has gonefar enough. I know, now, that you were spying on us. I don't know why,unless you'd selected the girl yourself--"
"That's ag'in you too," interrupted Randerson coldly. "You're goin' topay."
"You're making a lot of fuss about the girl," sneered Masten. "A man--"
"You're a heap careless with words that you don't know the meanin' of,"said Randerson. "We don't raise men out here that do things like you do.An' I expect you're one in a million. They all can't be like you, backEast; if they was, the East would go to hell plenty rapid. Get off yourhorse!"
Masten demurred, and Randerson's big pistol leaped into his hand. Hisvoice came at the same instant, intense and vibrant:
"It don't make no difference to me _how_ you get off!"
He watched Masten get down, and then he slid to the ground himself, thepistol still in hand, and faced Masten, with only three or four feet ofspace separating them.
Masten had been watching him with wide, fearing eyes, and at the menaceof his face when he dismounted Masten shrank back a step.
"Good Heavens, man, do you mean to shoot me?" he said, the wordsfaltering and scarcely audible.
"I reckon shootin' would be too good for you." Again Randerson's face hadtaken on that peculiar stony expression. Inexorable purpose was writtenon it; what he was to do he was in no hurry to be about, but it would bedone in good time.
"I ain't never claimed to be no angel," he said. "I reckon I'm about theaverage, an' I've fell before temptation same as other men. But I'vedrawed the line where you've busted over it. Mebbe if it was some othergirl, I wouldn't feel it like I do about Hagar. But when I tell you thatI've knowed that girl for about five years, an' that there wasn't a meanthought in her head until you brought your dirty carcass to her father'sshack, an' that to me she's a kid in spite of her long dresses and hernewfangled furbelows, you'll understand a heap about how I feel rightnow. Get your paws up, for I'm goin' to thrash you so bad that your ownmother won't know you--if she's so misfortunate as to be alive to look atyou! After that, you're goin' to hit the breeze out of this country, an'if I ever lay eyes on you ag'in I'll go gunnin' for you!"
While he had been speaking he had holstered the pistol, unstrapped hiscartridge belt and let guns and belt fall to the ground. Then withoutwarning he drove a fist at Masten's face.
The Easterner dodged the blow, evaded him, and danced off, his facealight with a venomous joy. For the dreaded guns were out of Randerson'sreach, he was a fair match for Randerson in weight, though Randersontowered inches above him; he had had considerable experience in boxing athis club in the East, and he had longed for an opportunity to avengehimself for the indignity that had been offered him at Calamity. Besides,he had a suspicion that Ruth's refusal to marry before the fall round-uphad been largely due to a lately discovered liking for the man who wasfacing him.
"I fancy you'll have your work cut out for you, you damned meddler!" hesneered as he went in swiftly, with a right and left, aimed atRanderson's face.
The blows landed, but seemingly had no effect, for Randerson merelygritted his teeth and pressed forward. In his mind was a picture of agirl whom he had "dawdled" on his knee--a "kid" that he had played with,as a brother might have played with a younger sister.