Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 05 - Law O' The Lariat(1935) by Oliver Strange Read Free Book Online Page A

She knew perfectly well that the
owner of the Bar B admired her, and, liking him, the facn gave her pleasure.
Though he dressed in the garb of the range, his clothes were of good quality,
and he was careful of his appearance. A fine figure of a man, most women would
have voted him, virile, self-assured, and, when he chose, entertaining. Though
she had never given the subject serious consideration, Phil supposed that they
would be married—it seemed the natural outcome—but to-day she found herself
criticising her escort, and to her annoyance comparing him. Late that evening
the foreman heard a subdued rap at his door, and opened it to admit his
employer. The cattleman’s face was grim, and when he spoke his voice had a ring
of determination.
                 “Bartholomew
was here to-day, an’ things has come to a showdown,” he began. “I’ve got orders
to hand over seventy-five head an’ fire yu to-morrow. I’ll see him in hell
first.” He waited a moment, but Severn had nothing to say, and the ranch-owner
continued. “It’s come a bit sooner than I figured, but that can’t be helped.
Now, get this, Bart’s hold is on me—personal, but if I ain’t here—”
                 Severn
grinned and nodded comprehendingly. With the owner absent, the blackmailer’s
power over the ranch vanished too.
                 “This
is how I’ve planned it,” Masters went on. “I just fade out, leavin’ no word,
an’ yu take hold an’ run the ranch. If I don’t show up again in reasonable time
I s’pose it will be assumed that I’ve cashed, an’ Judge Embley, over to Desert
Edge, will take charge as executor o’ my will and guardian to Phil, who won’t
be of age for another twelvemonth. Yu know the Judge, for he recommended yu to
me; he ain’t wise to what I’m goin’ to do, but he’ll help yu if yu get crowded.”
                 “ It’s shore goin’ to be tough on yore girl, not knowin’
whether yo’re alive,” the foreman pointed out.
                 “I’ve
thought o’ that, but there ain’t no way round it,” the
rancher replied. “If I left any message, her manner would givethe game away,
an’ Black Bart would hunt me down. I want him to figure I’m dead—that’ll give
rne a free hand. At Phil’s age griefs ain’t lastin’, an’, anyways, it’s the
on’y wagon-trail out.” He paused for a moment, evidently milling things over in
his mind, and then, “I’ve had to mortgage this place pretty deep to raise money
for Bartholomew. Judge Embley fixed it for me, an’ I reckon he can hold the
fella who lent the cash—for a’ while, anyways—an’ that’s all I’m needin’ . Ridge of the XT wants four-score three-year-olds, an’
that’ll give yu coin to pay expenses. Yu see, I’m trustin’ yu, Jim, an’ I’m
doin’ it on what Embley said of yu.”
                 “Yu
can gamble on me,” the foreman said quietly.
                 “Which
I am, an’ puttin’ up every chip I got,” replied the cattleman. “Now, remember,
yu ain’t seen me tonight an’ don’t know nothin’ o’ my movements. Adios.”
                 They
gripped hands for a long moment, and then the rancher slipped out of the shack,
feeling more cheerful than he had formany a month. He was in desperate trouble,
trusting a man who was almost a stranger, and yet he had no doubts. Somehow
this keen-eyed, capable fellow inspired him with confidence. To beat
Bartholomew and nhrow off the bondage he had smarted under for years had seemed
a vain dream, but now he felt that it was possible. It meant risking all he
had, but he stood to lose that in any case to the blackmailer.
                 The
absence of her father at the morning meal, though it surprised Phil, did not
arouse any uneasiness; he had ridden away early on other occasions, though he
usually left word for her. But when the day passed without any sign of him,