It was near midnight when Ferguson rode in to the Two Diamondranchhouse leading Rope's pony. He carefully unsaddled the two animalsand let them into the corral, taking great pains to make little noise.Rope's saddle--a peculiar one with a high pommel bearing a silver plateupon which the puncher's name was engraved--he placed conspicuouslynear the door of the bunkhouse. His own he carefully suspended fromits accustomed hook in the lean-to. Then, still carefully, he made hisway inside the bunkhouse and sought his bunk.
At dawn he heard voices outside and he arose and went to the door.Several of the men were gathered about the step talking. For aninstant Ferguson stood, his eyes roving over the group. Tucson was notthere. He went back into the bunkhouse and walked casually about,taking swift glances at the bunks where the men still slept. Then hereturned to the door, satisfied that Tucson had not come in.
When he reached the door again he found that the men of the group haddiscovered the saddle. One of them was saying something about it."That ain't just the way I take care of my saddle," he was telling theothers; "leavin' her out nights."
"I never knowed Rope to be that careless before," said another.
Ferguson returned to the bunkhouse and ate breakfast. After the mealwas finished he went out, caught up Mustard, swung into the saddle, androde down to the ranchhouse door. He found Stafford in the office.The latter greeted the stray-man with a smile.
"Somethin' doin'?" he questioned.
"You might call it that," returned Ferguson. He went inside and seatedhimself near Stafford's desk.
"I've come in to tell you that I saw some rustlers workin' on the herdyesterday," he said.
Stafford sat suddenly erect, his eyes lighting interrogatively.
"It wasn't Ben Radford," continued Ferguson, answering the look."You'd be surprised if I told you. But I ain't tellin'--now. I'mwaitin' to see if someone else does. But I'm tellin' you this: Theygot Rope Jones."
Stafford's face reddened with anger. "They got Rope, you say?" hedemanded. "Why, where--damn them!"
"Back of the ridge about fifteen miles up the crick," returnedFerguson. "I was ridin' along the edge of the plateau an' I saw a mandown there shoot another. I got down as soon as I could an' foundRope. There wasn't nothin' I could do. So I planted him where I foundhim an' brought his horse back. There was two rustlers there. Butonly one done the shootin'. I got the name of one."
Stafford cursed. "I'm wantin' to know who it was!" he demanded. "I'llmake him--why, damn him, I'll----"
"You're carryin' on awful," observed Ferguson dryly. "But you ain'tdoin' any good." He leaned closer to Stafford. "I'm quittin' my jobright now," he said.
Stafford leaned back in his chair, surprised into silence. For aninstant he glared at the stray-man, and then his lips curled scornfully.
"So you're quittin'," he sneered; "scared plum out because you seen aman put out of business! I reckon Leviatt wasn't far wrong when hesaid----"
"I wouldn't say a lot," interrupted Ferguson coldly. "I ain'tadmittin' that I'm any scared. An' I ain't carin' a heap becauseLeviatt's been gassin' to you. But I'm quittin' the job you give me.Ben Radford ain't the man who's been rustlin' your cattle. It'ssomeone else. I'm askin' you to hire me to find out whoever it is.I'm wantin' a free hand. I don't want anyone askin' me any questions.I don't want anyone orderin' me around. But if you want the men whoare rustlin' your cattle, I'm offerin' to do the job. Do I get it?"
"You're keepin' right on--workin' for the Two Diamond," returnedStafford. "But I'd like to get hold of the man who got Rope."
Ferguson smiled grimly. "That man'll be gittin' his some day," hedeclared, rising. "I'm keepin' him for myself. Mebbe I won't shoothim. I reckon Rope'd be some tickled if he'd know that the man whoshot him could get a chance to think it over while some man wasstringin' him up. You ain't sayin' anything about anything."
He turned and went out. Five minutes later Stafford saw him ridingslowly toward the river.
As the days went a mysterious word began to be spoken wherever mencongregated. No man knew whence the word had come, but it waswhispered that Rope Jones would be seen no more. His pony joined theremuda; his saddle and other personal effects became prizes for whichthe men of the outfit cast lots. Inquiries were made concerning thepuncher by friends who persisted in being inquisitive, but nothingresulted. In time the word "rustler" became associated with his name,and "caught with the goods" grew to be a phrase that told eloquently ofthe manner of his death. Later it was whispered that Leviatt andTucson had come upon Rope behind the ridge, catching him in the act ofrunning off a Two Diamond calf. But as no report had been made toStafford by either Leviatt or Tucson, the news remained merely rumor.
Ferguson had said nothing more to any man concerning the incident. Todo so would have warned Tucson. And neither Ferguson nor Miss Radfordcould have sworn to the man's guilt. In addition to this, therelingered in Ferguson's mind a desire to play this game in his own way.Telling the men of the outfit what he had seen would make his knowledgecommon property--and in the absence of proof might cause him to appearridiculous.
But since the shooting he had little doubt that Leviatt had beenTucson's companion on that day. Rope's scathing words--spoken whileMiss Radford had been trying to revive him--. "You're a hell of arange boss," had convinced the stray-man that Leviatt had been one ofthe assailants. He had wondered much over the emotions of the two whenthey returned to the spot where the murder had been committed, to findtheir victim buried and his horse gone. But of one thing he wascertain--their surprise over the discovery that the body of theirvictim had been buried could not have equalled their discomfiture onlearning that the latter's pony had been secretly brought to the homeranch, and that among the men of the outfit was one, at least, who knewsomething of their guilty secret. Ferguson thought this to be thereason that they had not reported the incident to Stafford.
There was now nothing for the stray-man to do but watch. The men whohad killed Rope were wary and dangerous, and their next move might bedirected at him. But he was not disturbed. One thought brought him amighty satisfaction. He was no longer employed to fasten upon BenRadford the stigma of guilt; no longer need he feel oppressed with theguilty consciousness, when in the presence of Mary Radford, that hewas, in a measure, a hired spy whose business it was to convict herbrother of the crime of rustling. He might now meet the young womanface to face, without experiencing the sensation of guilt that hadalways affected him.
Beneath his satisfaction lurked a deeper emotion. During the course ofhis acquaintance with Rope Jones he had developed a sincere affectionfor the man. The grief in his heart over Rope's death was made morepoignant because of the latter's words, just before the final moment,which seemed to have been a plea for vengeance:
"Ferguson told me to look out. He told me to be careful that theydidn't get me between them. But I wasn't thinkin' that it would happenjust that way."
This had been all that Rope had said about his friend, but it showedthat during his last conscious moments he had been thinking of thestray-man. As the days passed the words dwelt continually inFerguson's mind. Each day that he rode abroad, searching for evidenceagainst the murderers, brought him a day nearer to the vengeance uponwhich he had determined.