The Trail Horde. Charles Alden Seltzer

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      "A kind of a moral monitor, Blackburn," grinned Lawler. "Some folks need them. If you're thinking of getting one——"

      "Bah!" Blackburn's eyes were vitriolic with disgust. "I sabe what you are hintin' at when you gas of morals—which I'm a heap acquainted with because I ain't got none to speak of. But I'm plumb flabbergasted when you go to connectin' a battleship with anything that's got a whole lot to do with morals. Accordin' to my schoolin', a monitor is a thing which blows the stuffin' out of——"

      "A monitor of morals could do that," gravely said Lawler. "In fact, according to the best authorities, there have been many monitors who have blown the stuffing out of the reputations of their charges."

      Blackburn gulped. He was puzzled, and his eyes were glazed with the incomprehension which had seized him. Twice again as he watched Lawler's grave face he gulped. And then he eyed Lawler belligerently.

      "I reckon them monitors is eastern. I've never seen one galivantin' around these parts."

      "They're a lot eastern," assented Lawler. "I've never seen one, but I've read about them in books. And once my mother saw one—she tells me the East raises them by the hundred."

      "That accounts for it," declared Blackburn; "anything which comes from the East is likely to be a heap shy on hoss sense."

      He now squinted at Lawler, watching him keenly.

      "Accordin' to report Joe Hamlin ought to go around draggin' one of them monitors."

      Blackburn shrewdly noted the quickening of Lawler's eyes, and the dull red that stole into his face.

      "What do you mean, Blackburn?"

      "Davies an' Harris hit town ag'in last night; an' comin' back they run plumb into Joe Hamlin. He was in the upper end of the box arroyo. He'd roped an' hog-tied a Circle L cow an' was blottin' our brand out."

      "What happened?" Lawler's lips were set in grim lines.

      "Nothin'—followin' your orders regardin' the cuss. Davies an' Harris let him go—after warnin' him. Somethin' ought to be done. It ain't addin' a heap to the morals of the outfit for the men to know a man can rustle cattle that promiscuous—an' the boss not battin' an eyewinker. This is the fourth time he's been caught with the goods—to say nothin' of the times he's done it without nobody gittin' wise—an' the boys is beginnin' to ask questions, bein' a heap puzzled because somethin' don't happen to Joe."

      Lawler's face was expressionless. Except for the flush in his cheeks he seemed to be unaffected by Blackburn's words. His voice was a trifle cold when he spoke:

      "I'll attend to Hamlin. I'll stop at the Two Bar on my way to Willets. By the time you reach town with the cattle I'll have the deal with Warden clinched."

      Blackburn nodded, and Lawler wheeled the bay, heading him northward.

      As he rode, Lawler's face changed expression. He frowned, and his lips set stiffly.

      What he had been almost on the point of telling his mother was that he knew why Ruth Hamlin had refused him. It was pride, nothing less. Lawler suspected that Ruth knew her father was a rustler. In fact, there had been times when he had seen that knowledge lying naked in her eyes when she looked at her parent. Accusation and disgust had been there, but mingling with them was the persistent loyalty that had always governed the girl; the protective instinct, and a hope of reformation.

      The pride that Mrs. Lawler had exhibited was not less strong in the girl's heart. By various signs Lawler knew the girl loved him; he knew it as positively as he knew she would not marry him while the stigma of guilt rested upon her parent. And he was convinced that she was ignorant of the fact that Lawler shared her secret. That was why Lawler had permitted Hamlin to escape; it was why he had issued orders to his men to suffer Hamlin's misdeeds without exacting the expiation that custom provided. Lawler did not want Ruth to know that he knew.

      He sent the big bay forward at a steady, even pace, and in an hour he had crossed the sweep of upland and was riding a narrow trail that veered gradually from the trail to Willets. The character of the land had changed, and Lawler was now riding over a great level, thickly dotted with bunch grass, with stretches of bars, hard sand, clumps of cactus and greasewood.

      He held to the narrow trail. It took him through a section of dead, crumbling lava and rotting rock; through a little stretch of timber, and finally along the bank of a shallow river—the Wolf—which ran after doubling many times, through the Circle L valley.

      In time he reached a little grass level that lay close to the river. A small cabin squatted near the center of the clearing, surrounded by several outbuildings in a semi-dilapidated condition, and a corral, in which there were several horses.

      Lawler sent Red King straight toward the cabin. When he reached the cabin he swung off and walked toward the door, his lips set in straight lines, his manner decisive.

      He had taken only several steps when a voice greeted him, coming from the interior of the cabin—a man's voice, snarling, venomous:

      "You come another step, Kane Lawler, an' I'll bore you!"

      Lawler halted, facing the door. The door was closed, but a little slide in the upper part of it was open. Through the aperture projected the muzzle of a rifle, and behind the rifle appeared a man's face—dark, bearded, with eyes that gleamed with ferocious malignancy.

CHAPTER II

       Table of Contents

      DRIVING A BARGAIN

      Lawler stiffened. There was no mistaking the deadly threat of the rifle and the man's menacing manner. Lawler's face was pale, but his eyes were unwavering as they looked into those that glared out at him through the aperture in the door.

      Guilt and fear were the emotions that had driven Hamlin to this rather hysterical threat. Lawler resisted an impulse to laugh, though he felt a pulse of grim humor shoot through him.

      To his knowledge—excepting Hamlin's predilection to rustle cattle—the man was harmless. He never had been known to draw a gun, even in self-defense, and Lawler was convinced that there was not sufficient provocation for him to break one of the rules that had governed him until now. Hamlin might be goaded, or frightened, into using the rifle, but Lawler had no intention of goading or frightening him. In fact, being aware of the reason for Hamlin's belligerence, he had no intention of acquainting the man with the knowledge of what had happened the night before. At least, not at this instant.

      Lawler's lips wore a shadowy smile.

      "I reckon you don't know me, Hamlin?" he said.

      "I know you mighty well, Lawler," snapped Hamlin; "you heard me mention your name!"

      "Then you've got a new way of greeting your friends, eh—with a rifle. Well, put it down and open the door. There's some things I want to say to you."

      "What about?" asked Hamlin, suspiciously. Overwhelming every other thought in his mind was the conviction that Davies and Harris had apprised Lawler of what had happened the night before, and that Lawler had come to capture him, СКАЧАТЬ