"I warn't sayin' any different," the man lied. "But this fella man-handled Flint a hit back an' if he tries to level up that's no business of ourn."
Trenton took his pipe from his mouth and spoke through clenched teeth: "If he does, an' I know it, I'll hand him over to the sheriff right away."
"That'll shore scare him most to death," Bundy rejoined, with an impudent leer.
Garstone gave a gesture of impatience. "You said you had some news for us, Trenton," he reminded.
"I have information which may be of value--if we can use it," the rancher said. "It comes from Maitland, the new manager of the bank here. As you know, the cattle industry has had a rough time for some years, an' we're all working on borrowed money. The Circle Dot is in so deep that the bank holds a mortgage on the whole shebang, an' it runs out in less than two months' time."
Garstone looked sceptical. "They'll renew--these small-town concerns have to take risks."
"I doubt it; Maitland is scared--every rancher around owes him money, includin' myself." He smiled grimly. "Dave Dover gone, an' an inexperienced boy in the saddle makes all the difference. I guess he'd be glad to sell that mortgage."
Garstone sat up. "That's an idea, Zeb," he conceded. "What's the figure?"
"Forty thousand."
"Dave Dover must have been mad."
"No, the Circle Dot is worth more than that, an' he gambled on Lawson--the old manager--remainin'; they were good friends."
"Where's the coin coming from," Garstone wanted to know.
The rancher shrugged. "We've nearly a couple of months to raise it."
"And so has young Dover. Does he know?"
"I believe not, an' I suggested to Maitland, casually, that he might let the lad get over his father's death before pressin' him."
"Damn it, that was clever of you, Zeb," the Easterner complimented. "Gives us a start in the race, anyhow."
* Yorky's new attire was as big a surprise to the outfit as it had been to him, and he had to endure a considerable amount of banter. But it was of the good-natured character--the kind they inflicted upon each other--for the boy's health aroused only pity in their robust natures. Also, Yorky's tongue had a razor edge, and, as Tiny once put it, "the li'l runt was shore raised on brimstone."
When Blister and Noisy rode in and beheld the resplendent figure leaning carelessly against the veranda rail, they gave a passable imitation of falling from their horses.
"D'you see what I see, Noisy?" Blister cried. "Dan has done sold the ranch from under us, an' there's the noo owner. I'm askin' for my time; I ain't ridin' for no dude."
Noisy nodded. They pulled up about ten yards away, removed their hats, and sat in silent admiration. A moment later, Tiny, Slocombe, and Lidgett arrived, and without a word, lined up beside them. Yorky, who was enjoying the sensation he was causing, spoke:
"Howdy, fellers."
"It can talk," Blister said in an awed tone. "An' somehow the voice seems familiar."
The voice continued to talk. It began by describing them as a bunch of locoed sheep-herders, and went on to become even more familiar, referring, with fluency of adjective, to the personal habits of each one in turn. All this with a grin on the sallow face.
"Why, it's Yorky!" Slow pretended to discover. "Sufferin' serpents, boy, where did you git them bee-yu-ti-ful clothes?"
"Bought 'em outa his savin's on smokin'," Tiny suggested. "Couldn't be did in the time," Blister said. "Yorky don't earn more'n a dollar a week."
"He does, but he don't git more," the boy corrected. "I b'lieve he's robbed a store," Lidgett laughed.
"Aw, go chase yerself," Yorky countered. "Me rich uncle in Noo York--"
A howl of merriment cut short the explanation; extravagant tales of this mythical relative had amused them on more than one occasion. Sudden had joined the group.
"Don't yu mind 'em--they're just jealous," he said. "Yu'll be the best-dressed Circle Dot fella at the dance."
"What dance?" several voices asked.
"I hear the town is holdin' one, at the schoolhouse, tickets a dollar a head-to approved applicants."
"That last oughta shut out them Wagon-wheel felons," was Tiny's comment. "When's she due to happen, this fandango?"
"Middlin' soon, but the date ain't fixed."
"It's two long weeks to pay-day, an' we couldn't raise a dollar in the outfit," Blister wailed.
"Shucks! Dan's got a slate, ain't he?" Sudden grinned. That evening he told his news to Dover and the foreman, both of whom were inclined to be sceptical.
"Rainbow must be wakin' up," was the rancher's opinion. "How did you get the glad tidin's, Jim?"
"Met Malachi on his way up here. No, he warn't lit up, but I wouldn't say he was enjoyin' the ride. He's unusual, that hombre."
"Shore is, if he'd come ten mile to bring a bit o' local gossip," Dan said ironically.
"There was somethin' else; he said yu might find it worth while to make the acquaintance o' the new bank manager--soon."
--"What the devil--"
"That's all he would say, but in yore place I'd take the advice. Malachi ain't a fool, 'cept to hisself."
Dan gave in. "I'll ride over in the mornin'."
"He also mentioned that the dance is bein' organized by Zeb Trenton, to introduce his niece," Sudden went on.
The young man's face flushed furiously. "Then the Circle Dot ain't attendin'," he grated.
"That'll disappoint the boys an' put us in wrong with everybody," the foreman dissented.
"He's right, Dan," Sudden supported. "Yu can't afford to stay away."
"Damnation, whose side are you on?" Dover asked irritably.
"Yores, an' I made it plain to Trenton yestiddy when he offered me double pay to ride for him," was the pointed reply.
"He--did--that? An' you sent him packin'? I'm sorry, Jim; I'm a sore-headed bear, these days."
"Don't need talkin' about. He put it that he owed me some-thin'."
"Imagine a Trenton sufferin' from gratitude! All he wanted was to take a good man from me."
"The dance is also to serve as a welcome for another newcomer--the bank fella," the puncher added.
"That settles it--we just gotta be there," Burke said. "Yorky must 'a' had early news o' the party--he's all dressed up a'ready, an' got the boys guessin'."
"I saw him as I rode in, struttin' around like a young turkey gobbler," Dan smiled. "Yore doin', I s'pose, Jim?"
"Part o' the cure," Sudden replied.
In the private office of the bank Dover sat facing the manager, a smallish, undistinguished person, nearing fifty, with thinning hair, and pale, spectacled eyes.
"I wasn't meaning to trouble you yet, Mister Dover, in view of your bereavement," he said. "But I'm glad you came in; I wanted to see you."
"About anythin' in particular?"
"Er, yes. Are you acquainted with the state of your father's finances?"
"No. Dad was allus kind o' secretive, an' I ain't had time to look over his papers."
"Quite so. Well, Mister Dover, when I examined the books of this bank I was amazed and even alarmed by the amount owing to it by the local cattlemen." .
"You tellin' me the Circle Dot is one of 'em?"
"Not only one, but the most deeply involved."
At this moment the door opened and a young, fair-haired girl stepped in. "Oh, Dad," she began, and stopped. "Sorry, I didn't know you had a visitor."
"My only child, Kate, Mister Dover," the banker explained. The young man stood up, shook hands, murmured, "Pleased to meetcha," and the girl withdrew, but not without a challenging glance of approval at the rancher.
"What's the position?" Dan asked.
"We hold a mortgage on your ranch for forty thousand dollars," came the reply.
Dan jerked upright, his eyes large. "The hell you say?" he gasped. "Forty thousand? That's a jag o' money."