CHAPTER VIISuspicionThe bright moon made the scene almost as light as day. Teddy could see the man’s small, close-set eyes and his thin-lipped mouth as The Pup thrust his face forward belligerently.“You’re awfully sure about that, aren’t you?” the boy said in a low voice. Perhaps another youth might disclaim such a quarrel as this, which seemed purposely thrust upon him. Teddy had no reason to seek a fight with Marino, nor even meet him half way. It would have been better, perhaps, had the boy at this moment turned on his heel and walked away. But Teddy was himself, and no one else. The memory of Gus’s betrayal rankled within him.The Pup moved his shoulders slightly, dropping the right one lower than the left. Teddy settled himself firmly.“Think yore some baby, don’t you?” the man flashed, and Teddy could see a dark flush mount to his face. “You an’ that brother of yours! Pah! Yuh make me sick!” and he spat energetically.Teddy clenched his fists, but held his peace. He would not let himself be talked into starting hostilities. If Marino wanted to fight—well, there were two sides to the story.Of a sudden The Pup changed his tone. His voice took on a whining, ingratiating note.“What are you two always pickin’ on me for?” he demanded. “I didn’t do nothin’ to yuh. A feller can’t—”Teddy saw the man’s hand leap to his belt. Like a bundle of coiled springs the boy leaped forward. His open hand found The Pup’s wrist and closed upon it, holding it in a firm grip. The other hand pressed back the man’s chin—pressed it back until Marino was staring with glassy eyes up into starry night.“Drop it!” Teddy gasped, and a knife flashed to the ground. Teddy kicked it to one side, felt about the man’s shirt to see that no more weapons were concealed, and stepped back.“A fine snake you are!” Teddy said contemptuously. “Tried to pull a knife on me, didn’t you? For two cents I’d—”“Oh, let me alone!” the man burst out. “Yes, I tried to knife you, an’ I’m sorry I didn’t! I don’t like your kind! When I came out here—” He stopped, and bit his lip.Teddy gazed at him in wonder. The man’s Western accent had disappeared. He carried a knife—a thing no true Westerner ever did except for working purposes. Mexicans carried them—it was a Greaser trait. Was this man a Mex? Teddy looked at him closely.“What you starin’ at?” The Pup asked uneasily, once more reverting to his former manner. “You got me, didn’t yuh? Well, call it a day! Yuh got a shootin’ iron there—why don’t yuh use it?”“I’m not in the habit of shooting men down in cold blood,” Teddy said deliberately. He stepped closer to the man. “Marino! where are you from?” he snapped.Although a cloud dimmed the moon just then, Teddy could have sworn he saw fear leap into the man’s eyes. Marino started as though he had stepped on a rattler where he had expected to find a garden snake, then recovered himself.“Kind of a funny question to ask a man in these parts, ain’t it?” he sneered.“Not to my notion. But if you want to keep it to yourself, that’s your lookout. The days when a gunman could come West and get a job on a ranch without any one bothering about him until he let daylight into some peaceful citizen, are gone forever.”“An’ who wants a job on your place, anyhow?”“That’s not the point. You’re on our land, and you were one of the hands of the X Bar X. As long as you stay here you’ve got to watch your step. What was the idea of toting that thing around?” Teddy nodded toward the long knife, gleaming on the ground a few feet away.“That’s my business, too.”“Well, when you try to stick me with it that makes it my business! I guess it would be better for all concerned if you just moseyed out of here, Marino!”Teddy felt himself growing hot under the collar at the consummate nerve of the man. Standing there arguing a question of ethics just after having tried to murder him!“Throwin’ a guy out this time of night, hey?” Marino demanded.“Yes—I’m throwing you out. Going?”The Pup looked over toward the corral, then back to Teddy. He grinned sardonically.“Not havin’ no more reason for stayin’, I’ll be on my way,” he declared. “Soon as I—” He made a move toward his knife.Teddy took a quick step forward, and put his foot on the weapon.“That stays here,” the boy said grimly. “Where’s your pony?”Marino motioned with his thumb toward a group of trees on the edge of the ranch yard.“Over there. I just rode by to get some duds I left here. But never mind ’em now,” he added suddenly. “I’ll get ’em later. Hope you choke.”With this pleasant farewell, the man walked in the direction he had said his horse was tied. Teddy watched him go, a fixed look on his face.“Cow-puncher, hey?” the boy muttered. “You’re as much a cow-puncher as I am a Chinaman! Let’s have a look at this toad-sticker.” He bent over and picked up the knife. Holding it up, he saw that the initials “J. K.” were burned in the handle. The blade was long and curved slightly.“J. K.—the K standing for Marino,” the boy mused. “Some day we’ll have this little argument out, Mister J. K. Marino. But you won’t have one of these things in your hand when we do. Lucky for me I saw you make a dive for it, or I’d be plumb tired of living by now.”A moment more he gazed at the knife, then absently he stuck it in his belt. Slowly he continued on his way to the bunk-house, to see Nat Raymond.Before they turned in he told Roy of the occurrence. With the door of their room shut tight, so as not to disturb Mrs. Manley, the boys talked far into the night. When finally they switched off the light they had come to no decision except to agree that Marino was not to be allowed on X Bar X property again. Yet, had they known it, this was, in effect, locking the stable after the horse had been stolen.While Teddy and Roy were talking things over in their room, another conversation, quite relative to theirs, was being carried on within the doors of the bunk-house. Despite the appeals of a few men to “can the chatter an’ go to sleep,” Nat Raymond and Pop Burns were verbally appointing themselves a committee of investigation.“Me, I’m goin’ to try to find Gus an’ bring him back,” Pop declared, pulling hard on his pipe. “He’s too good a man to—Jim, take yore toe outa my eye! He’s too good a man to lose.”“Well, then go an’ chin somewhere else!” Jim Casey ordered petulantly. “You guys loaf all day an’ want to stay up all night. Us, we got to work!”“Who loafs all day?” Pop asked indignantly. “I do a blamed sight more work than you do, Jim Casey, young as you are! So fold that behind the rim of yore derby!”“Aw, let him rave,” Nat Raymond pleaded. “He only wants to start an argument. Listen! How you gonna find Gus?”“Don’t know. But I will somehow as soon as the boss comes back. He’ll be glad to see the old geezer. The boss hated to fire Gus as much as Gus hated to be fired, I’ll bet—maybe more. But Bardwell was all het up over what Jake Trummer said.” Being the oldest man on the X Bar X, Pop felt privileged to take liberties with the boss’s name. “You know, Nat,” he continued, “that time Belle Ada and the others were kidnapped took a lot out of the old boy. He ain’t as young as he was once—none of us are,” and Pop puffed reminiscently. “I mark the time that—”“For the love of seven kinds of gorillas, will you guys pipe down?” came a voice from one of the upper bunks. “What do you think this is—a lecture hall?”Since several others took up their grievances at this point, Pop and Nat were compelled to desist and turn in. But Pop called across to Nat that when the boss came back he was “goin’ to ask for a few days leave an’ hunt Gus up.” Nat added he’d do the same and hunt Marino down, and the whole room echoed this sentiment. The Pup had succeeded in making himself uniformly unpopular during his stay at the X Bar X.Early the next morning the ranch yard was the scene of a consultation. Both Teddy and Roy felt it advisable to tell the others of what had occurred the night before, so that they might be on their guard and see that Marino kept his distance. Pop grunted scornfully when Teddy told of the knife, and expressed himself fluently concerning any one who was yellow enough to try to slip a sticker into another. After Teddy had concluded his story, heads were nodded sagely.Bug Eye, who was still among those present, declared as his opinion that The Pup was nothing more nor less than a Black Hand.“With that name an’ carryin’ a dirk,” he demanded, “what else could he be? I know them kind. Saw one in Frisco one time, an’ again in Galveston. They’re all alike.”“Yore quite some traveled, ain’t you?” inquired Rad Sell sarcastically. “Suppose you went in that Fishmobile of yourn.”“Naw, he walked,” Nat Raymond interrupted. “Ever see the soles of his feet? All callous. Ain’t they, Bug Eye?”“Never mind that,” Roy said, suppressing a smile. “This is more important. While dad’s away, Teddy and I have got to manage this place, and we don’t want anything to go wrong. So if any one sees Marino hanging around, tell him he’s not wanted. We don’t care for snakes like that on our ranch—they’re likely to bite and poison some one.”Teddy nodded in approval.“And also,” he added, “if you happen to see Gus—though I don’t suppose you will—tell him to return. All is forgiven!” and the boy grinned. “In the meantime there’s plenty to do. Nat, as I started to tell you last night—” and Teddy went on explaining some details of the day’s work.The crowd in the yard wandered off to go about their respective tasks. Teddy and Roy were to ride to Eagles to see about some new blankets and they turned to the corral to saddle Star and Flash.As they approached the railing, Teddy said to his brother:“Remember that horse I broke about a month ago—just before we went on our little picnic to Thunder Canyon? The one that jumped the fence with me?”“Sure, I remember him. Made a fine riding pony. Dad said he wouldn’t trade him for any horse on the place—except, I imagine, General.”“Yea! Well, I want you to take a look at his left foreleg. Seems to have some kind of a sore on it, and it won’t heal. I put ointment on it last week, but it didn’t seem to help. Wait here, and I’ll get him.”The boy opened the gate. At this time of year there were only a few horses within the enclosure, and no steers, since all these were on grazing ground. They would not be brought in until the round-up in the late fall.Striding up to Flash, Teddy rubbed the pony’s nose with his hand and gazed about him. Strangely enough, his eye did not catch the mount he spoke of, and he looked more carefully among the other horses. Still he could not see the bronco.“Hey, Roy!” he called. “Can you spot that pinto? Blamed if I can. I must be getting blind.”For a long moment both boys swept the corral with their eyes. Gradually they were beginning to realize the true state of affairs.“You say it,” Teddy begged. “Go ahead.”“I will—the pinto’s gone,” Roy declared grimly. “There’s no doubt about it. He’s not here, and none of the boys have him out. Teddy, he’s been stolen!”“An’ I know the waddie that took him!” Teddy burst out. “Last night! Oh, what a clown I was not to stop The Pup when I had him instead of letting him get away with a horse like that! Kick me, Roy—I deserve it!”“You don’t know for sure,” Roy admonished. “Some one else may have taken him—though it certainly does look suspicious. If we—”He was interrupted by his mother’s voice, calling from the front porch.“Teddy! Roy!” Mrs. Manley exclaimed. “Come in at once! Something has happened!”
The bright moon made the scene almost as light as day. Teddy could see the man’s small, close-set eyes and his thin-lipped mouth as The Pup thrust his face forward belligerently.
“You’re awfully sure about that, aren’t you?” the boy said in a low voice. Perhaps another youth might disclaim such a quarrel as this, which seemed purposely thrust upon him. Teddy had no reason to seek a fight with Marino, nor even meet him half way. It would have been better, perhaps, had the boy at this moment turned on his heel and walked away. But Teddy was himself, and no one else. The memory of Gus’s betrayal rankled within him.
The Pup moved his shoulders slightly, dropping the right one lower than the left. Teddy settled himself firmly.
“Think yore some baby, don’t you?” the man flashed, and Teddy could see a dark flush mount to his face. “You an’ that brother of yours! Pah! Yuh make me sick!” and he spat energetically.
Teddy clenched his fists, but held his peace. He would not let himself be talked into starting hostilities. If Marino wanted to fight—well, there were two sides to the story.
Of a sudden The Pup changed his tone. His voice took on a whining, ingratiating note.
“What are you two always pickin’ on me for?” he demanded. “I didn’t do nothin’ to yuh. A feller can’t—”
Teddy saw the man’s hand leap to his belt. Like a bundle of coiled springs the boy leaped forward. His open hand found The Pup’s wrist and closed upon it, holding it in a firm grip. The other hand pressed back the man’s chin—pressed it back until Marino was staring with glassy eyes up into starry night.
“Drop it!” Teddy gasped, and a knife flashed to the ground. Teddy kicked it to one side, felt about the man’s shirt to see that no more weapons were concealed, and stepped back.
“A fine snake you are!” Teddy said contemptuously. “Tried to pull a knife on me, didn’t you? For two cents I’d—”
“Oh, let me alone!” the man burst out. “Yes, I tried to knife you, an’ I’m sorry I didn’t! I don’t like your kind! When I came out here—” He stopped, and bit his lip.
Teddy gazed at him in wonder. The man’s Western accent had disappeared. He carried a knife—a thing no true Westerner ever did except for working purposes. Mexicans carried them—it was a Greaser trait. Was this man a Mex? Teddy looked at him closely.
“What you starin’ at?” The Pup asked uneasily, once more reverting to his former manner. “You got me, didn’t yuh? Well, call it a day! Yuh got a shootin’ iron there—why don’t yuh use it?”
“I’m not in the habit of shooting men down in cold blood,” Teddy said deliberately. He stepped closer to the man. “Marino! where are you from?” he snapped.
Although a cloud dimmed the moon just then, Teddy could have sworn he saw fear leap into the man’s eyes. Marino started as though he had stepped on a rattler where he had expected to find a garden snake, then recovered himself.
“Kind of a funny question to ask a man in these parts, ain’t it?” he sneered.
“Not to my notion. But if you want to keep it to yourself, that’s your lookout. The days when a gunman could come West and get a job on a ranch without any one bothering about him until he let daylight into some peaceful citizen, are gone forever.”
“An’ who wants a job on your place, anyhow?”
“That’s not the point. You’re on our land, and you were one of the hands of the X Bar X. As long as you stay here you’ve got to watch your step. What was the idea of toting that thing around?” Teddy nodded toward the long knife, gleaming on the ground a few feet away.
“That’s my business, too.”
“Well, when you try to stick me with it that makes it my business! I guess it would be better for all concerned if you just moseyed out of here, Marino!”
Teddy felt himself growing hot under the collar at the consummate nerve of the man. Standing there arguing a question of ethics just after having tried to murder him!
“Throwin’ a guy out this time of night, hey?” Marino demanded.
“Yes—I’m throwing you out. Going?”
The Pup looked over toward the corral, then back to Teddy. He grinned sardonically.
“Not havin’ no more reason for stayin’, I’ll be on my way,” he declared. “Soon as I—” He made a move toward his knife.
Teddy took a quick step forward, and put his foot on the weapon.
“That stays here,” the boy said grimly. “Where’s your pony?”
Marino motioned with his thumb toward a group of trees on the edge of the ranch yard.
“Over there. I just rode by to get some duds I left here. But never mind ’em now,” he added suddenly. “I’ll get ’em later. Hope you choke.”
With this pleasant farewell, the man walked in the direction he had said his horse was tied. Teddy watched him go, a fixed look on his face.
“Cow-puncher, hey?” the boy muttered. “You’re as much a cow-puncher as I am a Chinaman! Let’s have a look at this toad-sticker.” He bent over and picked up the knife. Holding it up, he saw that the initials “J. K.” were burned in the handle. The blade was long and curved slightly.
“J. K.—the K standing for Marino,” the boy mused. “Some day we’ll have this little argument out, Mister J. K. Marino. But you won’t have one of these things in your hand when we do. Lucky for me I saw you make a dive for it, or I’d be plumb tired of living by now.”
A moment more he gazed at the knife, then absently he stuck it in his belt. Slowly he continued on his way to the bunk-house, to see Nat Raymond.
Before they turned in he told Roy of the occurrence. With the door of their room shut tight, so as not to disturb Mrs. Manley, the boys talked far into the night. When finally they switched off the light they had come to no decision except to agree that Marino was not to be allowed on X Bar X property again. Yet, had they known it, this was, in effect, locking the stable after the horse had been stolen.
While Teddy and Roy were talking things over in their room, another conversation, quite relative to theirs, was being carried on within the doors of the bunk-house. Despite the appeals of a few men to “can the chatter an’ go to sleep,” Nat Raymond and Pop Burns were verbally appointing themselves a committee of investigation.
“Me, I’m goin’ to try to find Gus an’ bring him back,” Pop declared, pulling hard on his pipe. “He’s too good a man to—Jim, take yore toe outa my eye! He’s too good a man to lose.”
“Well, then go an’ chin somewhere else!” Jim Casey ordered petulantly. “You guys loaf all day an’ want to stay up all night. Us, we got to work!”
“Who loafs all day?” Pop asked indignantly. “I do a blamed sight more work than you do, Jim Casey, young as you are! So fold that behind the rim of yore derby!”
“Aw, let him rave,” Nat Raymond pleaded. “He only wants to start an argument. Listen! How you gonna find Gus?”
“Don’t know. But I will somehow as soon as the boss comes back. He’ll be glad to see the old geezer. The boss hated to fire Gus as much as Gus hated to be fired, I’ll bet—maybe more. But Bardwell was all het up over what Jake Trummer said.” Being the oldest man on the X Bar X, Pop felt privileged to take liberties with the boss’s name. “You know, Nat,” he continued, “that time Belle Ada and the others were kidnapped took a lot out of the old boy. He ain’t as young as he was once—none of us are,” and Pop puffed reminiscently. “I mark the time that—”
“For the love of seven kinds of gorillas, will you guys pipe down?” came a voice from one of the upper bunks. “What do you think this is—a lecture hall?”
Since several others took up their grievances at this point, Pop and Nat were compelled to desist and turn in. But Pop called across to Nat that when the boss came back he was “goin’ to ask for a few days leave an’ hunt Gus up.” Nat added he’d do the same and hunt Marino down, and the whole room echoed this sentiment. The Pup had succeeded in making himself uniformly unpopular during his stay at the X Bar X.
Early the next morning the ranch yard was the scene of a consultation. Both Teddy and Roy felt it advisable to tell the others of what had occurred the night before, so that they might be on their guard and see that Marino kept his distance. Pop grunted scornfully when Teddy told of the knife, and expressed himself fluently concerning any one who was yellow enough to try to slip a sticker into another. After Teddy had concluded his story, heads were nodded sagely.
Bug Eye, who was still among those present, declared as his opinion that The Pup was nothing more nor less than a Black Hand.
“With that name an’ carryin’ a dirk,” he demanded, “what else could he be? I know them kind. Saw one in Frisco one time, an’ again in Galveston. They’re all alike.”
“Yore quite some traveled, ain’t you?” inquired Rad Sell sarcastically. “Suppose you went in that Fishmobile of yourn.”
“Naw, he walked,” Nat Raymond interrupted. “Ever see the soles of his feet? All callous. Ain’t they, Bug Eye?”
“Never mind that,” Roy said, suppressing a smile. “This is more important. While dad’s away, Teddy and I have got to manage this place, and we don’t want anything to go wrong. So if any one sees Marino hanging around, tell him he’s not wanted. We don’t care for snakes like that on our ranch—they’re likely to bite and poison some one.”
Teddy nodded in approval.
“And also,” he added, “if you happen to see Gus—though I don’t suppose you will—tell him to return. All is forgiven!” and the boy grinned. “In the meantime there’s plenty to do. Nat, as I started to tell you last night—” and Teddy went on explaining some details of the day’s work.
The crowd in the yard wandered off to go about their respective tasks. Teddy and Roy were to ride to Eagles to see about some new blankets and they turned to the corral to saddle Star and Flash.
As they approached the railing, Teddy said to his brother:
“Remember that horse I broke about a month ago—just before we went on our little picnic to Thunder Canyon? The one that jumped the fence with me?”
“Sure, I remember him. Made a fine riding pony. Dad said he wouldn’t trade him for any horse on the place—except, I imagine, General.”
“Yea! Well, I want you to take a look at his left foreleg. Seems to have some kind of a sore on it, and it won’t heal. I put ointment on it last week, but it didn’t seem to help. Wait here, and I’ll get him.”
The boy opened the gate. At this time of year there were only a few horses within the enclosure, and no steers, since all these were on grazing ground. They would not be brought in until the round-up in the late fall.
Striding up to Flash, Teddy rubbed the pony’s nose with his hand and gazed about him. Strangely enough, his eye did not catch the mount he spoke of, and he looked more carefully among the other horses. Still he could not see the bronco.
“Hey, Roy!” he called. “Can you spot that pinto? Blamed if I can. I must be getting blind.”
For a long moment both boys swept the corral with their eyes. Gradually they were beginning to realize the true state of affairs.
“You say it,” Teddy begged. “Go ahead.”
“I will—the pinto’s gone,” Roy declared grimly. “There’s no doubt about it. He’s not here, and none of the boys have him out. Teddy, he’s been stolen!”
“An’ I know the waddie that took him!” Teddy burst out. “Last night! Oh, what a clown I was not to stop The Pup when I had him instead of letting him get away with a horse like that! Kick me, Roy—I deserve it!”
“You don’t know for sure,” Roy admonished. “Some one else may have taken him—though it certainly does look suspicious. If we—”
He was interrupted by his mother’s voice, calling from the front porch.
“Teddy! Roy!” Mrs. Manley exclaimed. “Come in at once! Something has happened!”