During the few first days of his connection with the Two DiamondFerguson had reached the conclusion that he would do well to takeplenty of time to inquire into the situation before attempting anymove. He had now been at the Two Diamond for two weeks and he had noteven seen Radford. Nor had he spoken half a dozen words with Stafford.The manager had observed certain signs that had convinced him thatspeech with the stray-man was unnecessary and futile. If he purposedto do anything he would do it in his own time and in his own way.Stafford mentally decided that the stray-man was "set in his ways."
The wagon outfit had departed,--this time down the river. Rope Joneshad gone with the wagon, and therefore Ferguson was deprived of thecompanionship of a man who had unexpectedly taken a stand with him inhis clash with Leviatt and for whom he had conceived a great liking.
With the wagon had gone Leviatt also. During the week that had elapsedbetween the clash at the bunkhouse and the departure of the wagon therange boss had given no sign that he knew of the existence of Ferguson.Nor had he intimated by word or sign that he meditated revenge uponRope because of the latter's championship of the stray-man. If he hadany such intention he concealed it with consummate skill. He treatedRope with a politeness that drew smiles to the faces of the men. ButFerguson saw in this politeness a subtleness of purpose that gave himadditional light on the range boss's character. A man who held hisvengeance at his finger tips would have taken pains to show Rope thathe might expect no mercy. Had Leviatt revealed an open antagonism toRope, the latter might have known what to expect when at last the twomen would reach the open range and the puncher be under the directdomination of the man he had offended.
There were many ways in which a petty vengeance might be gratified. Itwas within the range boss's power to make life nearly unbearable forthe puncher. If he did this it would of course be an unworthyvengeance, and Ferguson had little doubt that any vengeance meditatedby Leviatt would not be petty.
Ferguson went his own way, deeply thoughtful. He was taking his time.Certain things were puzzling him. Where did Leviatt stand in thisrustling business? That was part of the mystery. Stafford had toldhim that he had Leviatt's word that Radford was the thief who had beenstealing the Two Diamond cattle. Stafford had said also that it hadbeen Leviatt who had suggested employing a gunfighter--had even gone toDry Bottom with the manager for the purpose of finding one. And nowthat one had been employed Leviatt had become suddenly antagonistic tohim.
And Leviatt was in the habit of visiting the Radford cabin. Of coursehe might be doing this for the purpose of spying upon Ben Radford, butif that were the case why had he shown so venomous when he had seenFerguson sitting on the porch on the evening of the day after thelatter had been bitten by the rattler?
Mary Radford had told him that Leviatt was her brother's friend. If hewas a friend of the brother why had he suggested that Stafford employ agunfighter to shoot him? Here was more mystery.
On a day soon after the departure of the wagon outfit he rode awaythrough the afternoon sunshine. Not long did his thoughts dwell uponthe mystery of the range boss and Ben Radford. He kept seeing a youngwoman kneeling in front of him, bathing and binding his foot. Scrapsof a conversation that he had not forgotten revolved in his mind andbrought smiles to his lips.
"She didn't need to act so plum serious when she told me that I didn'tknow that I had any right to set there an' make pretty speeches to her.. . . She wouldn't need to ask me to stay at the cabin all night. Icould have gone on to the Two Diamond. I reckon that snake bite wasn'tso plum dangerous that I'd have died if I'd have rode a little while."
As he came out of a little gully a few miles up the river and rodealong the crest of a ridge that rose above endless miles of plains, histhoughts went back to that first night in the bunkhouse when the outfithad come in from the range. Satisfaction glinted in his eyes.
"I reckon them boys didn't make good with her. An' I expect that someday Leviatt will find he's been wastin' his time."
He frowned at thought of Leviatt and unconsciously his spurs drove hardagainst the pony's flanks. The little animal sprang forward, tossinghis head spiritedly. Ferguson grinned and patted its flank with aremorseful hand.
"Well, now, Mustard," he said, "I wasn't reckonin' on takin' my spiteout on you. You don't expect I thought you was Leviatt." And hepatted the flank again.
He rode down the long slope of the rise and struck the level, travelingat a slow lope through a shallow washout. The ground was broken androcky here and the snake-like cactus caught at his stirrup leathers. Arattler warned from the shadow of some sage-brush and, remembering hisprevious experience, he paused long enough to shoot its head off.
"There," he said, surveying the shattered snake, "I reckon you ain't toblame for me bein' bit by your uncle or cousin, or somethin', but Iain't never goin' to be particular when I see one of your familyswingin' their head that suggestive."
He rode on again, reloading his pistol. For a little time he traveledat a brisk pace and then he halted to breathe Mustard. Throwing oneleg over the pommel, he turned half way around in the saddle and sweptthe plains with a casual glance.
He sat erect instantly, focusing his gaze upon a speck that loomedthrough a dust cloud some miles distant. For a time he watched thespeck, his eyes narrowing. Finally he made out the speck to be a manon a pony.
"He's a-fannin' it some," he observed, shading his eyes with his hands;"hittin' up the breeze for fair." He meditated long, a critical smilereaching his lips.
"It's right warm to-day. Not just the kind of an atmosphere that a manought to be runnin' his horse reckless in." He meditated again.
"How far would you say he's off, Mustard? Ten miles, I reckon you'dsay if you was a knowin' horse."
The horseman had reached a slight ridge and for a moment he appeared onthe crest of it, racing his pony toward the river. Then he suddenlydisappeared.
Ferguson smiled coldly. Again his gaze swept the plains and the ridgesabout him. "I don't see nothin' that'd make a man ride like that inthis heat," he said. "Where would he have come from?" He staredobliquely off at a deep gully almost hidden by an adjoining ridge.
"It's been pretty near an hour since I shot that snake. I didn't seeno man about that time. If he was around here he must have heard mygun--an' sloped." He smiled and urged his pony about. "I reckon we'llgo look around that gully a little, Mustard," he said.
Half an hour later he rode down into the gully. After going somelittle distance he came across a dead cow, lying close to anoverhanging rock rim. A bullet hole in the cow's forehead toldeloquently of the manner of her death.
Ferguson dismounted and laid a hand on her side. The body was stillwarm. A four-months' calf was nudging the mother with an inquisitivemuzzle. Ferguson took a sharp glance at its ears and then drove it offto get a look at the brand. There was none.
"Sleeper," he said quietly. "With the Two Diamond ear-mark. Mostrange bosses make a mistake in not brandin' their calves. Seems as ifthey're trustin' to luck that rustlers won't work on them. I must havescared this one off."
He swung into the saddle, a queer light in his eyes. "Mustard, oldboy, we're goin' to Bear Flat. Mebbe Radford's hangin' around therenow. An' mebbe he ain't. But we're goin' to see."
But he halted a moment to bend a pitying glance at the calf.
"Poor little dogie," he said; "poor little orphan. Losin' yourmother--just like a human bein'. I call that mean luck."
Then he was off, Mustard swinging in a steady lope down the gully andup toward the ridge that led to the river trail.