`It would only be for a time, while I'm settling down,' she explained. `You see, I know nothing about running a ranch, and you could keep me from appearing too ignorant. I would like to make you foreman, but ...'
`That wouldn't do nohow--I'm too young to be givin' orders.' He saw her smile. `Shore, I gave some to Beau, an' he took 'em, but you can't be pullin' a gun on yore men allatime. I don't claim to know everythin' about cattle, but Jim'll help me; he's the fella you oughta get.'
`He'd be too good--I'd have nothing to do or say,' she smiled. `I'll arrange it this evening. Now, should I tell Mister Drait of--Lamond?' She read the reply in his blank stare of surprise. `Of course I must.'
When he had gone she stepped out and walked clear of the building, so obtaining a wider view of the surrounding counnry. Plain, forest, desert, slashed with deep gorges, amidst which wound pathways of silver. And on the far horizon, amethystine purple mountains cutting off the rest of the world.
`Yeah, it shorely is wornh lookin' at.'
Someone had spoken her own thought. She turned to find Cullin, hat in hand, standing a few yards away. Uneasily aware of her reddened cheeks, she murmured a welcome.
`Just rode over in the hope o' seein' you,' he said. `Ain't settled in yet, o' course.'
`Not until the place has been made more habitable,' she explained. `It is in a dreadful state; I would not care for anyone to see it.'
He laughed. `Which means I don't get an invite. Well, I'm beginnin' to understand a woman's attitude thataway, an' I'm havin' a sort o' domestic revolution at the Big C. That Greaser o' mine thinks I've gone loco, an' maybe he's right.'
She gathered he was paying her a compliment--that the reformation of his household was her doing. `Cleanliness and comfort surely go together,' she said.
`Not to a Mexican. His motno is "manana"--never do today what you can put off till tomorrow, or later. But I didn't come to talk o' myself. Is Gilman's place filled yet?'
`No. Mister Drait offered me Quilt, but I told him I wanted to be boss of my own ranch.'
`Shorely,' he agreed. `I've the very man for you; middle-aged, sober, level-headed, an' knows cattle. He also knows his place an' will keep it. His name is Sturm. I'll send him along in the mornin', but remember, you don't have to hire him because he comes from me; use yore judgment.'
He waved aside her thanks. 'Anythin' I can do for you is a pleasure.'
She had nothing to say to this, and he swung into his saddle and rode away. His receding figure was still in sight when Yorky came up.
`That was Mister Cullin,' she said. `You don't like him, do you?'
The boy's face took on a whimsical expression. `If I had to choose between him an' a rattler to cross th' plains with, I'd take th' rattler,' was how he put it.
Mary went indoors, trying to convince herself that he would naturally share the view of his employer. She failed; Yorky was eminently capable of forming his own opinion.
Dusk found them back at Shadow Valley. The presence of Sudden at the evening meal came as a relief to the girl, who had been awaiting it with some apprehension. She liked the puncher, and had confidence in him, though she knew that he too possessed dynamic possibilities for violence, and could be adamant when occasion demanded. The nester himself provided the opening she needed.
`I don't like you an' Lindy bein' up there alone,' he said. `No doubt Milton's awright, but he's past his prime, an' the rest o' the outfit is just guess-work.'
`Perhaps you could spare Yorky?' Mary suggested.
`Shore could, but he's kind o' young,' Drait objected. `What you think, Jim?'
`Yorky's head is a lot older than his body,' Sudden smiled. `He'd be as pleased as a pup with two tails, an' he's useful in a tight corner.'
`As I've reason to know,' Mary said seriously. `First, Bardoe, and today--Lamond.'
They listened gravely to her account, Drait's expression one of gloomy anger, Sudden's, of pride in his pupil.
`Well done, Yorky,' the former growled. `Pity he couldn't finish the job.'
`If a fella won't draw, what can yu do?' the puncher queried. `So he booted him off the veranda, huh? Wonder who learned him that trick?'
`I believe I could guess,' Mary said demurely.
`Yu'd likely be wrong, ma'am,' Sudden returned. `I started his education, but I ain't takin' the blame for all of it; them rapscallions at Rainbow took over when I left.'
`I had another visitor too--Mister Cullin; he came to offer me one of his riders as foreman.'
It astonished her to find that Nick received the news quite calmly; she had expected an outburst, which would only have made her furnher inclined to engage the man. Drait divined this.
`What's his name?' he asked, .and when she told him, shook his head. `Maybe a newcomer, an' honest, which might account for Cullin wantin' to get rid of him,' was his caustic comment.
By the time Sudden had returned to the bunkhouse Mary was facing her husband; she never found it easy to speak to him.
`Yorky thinks that Lamond is staying in the country to kill you,' she said.
`Do you also believe that?' he asked.
`I don't know,' she replied dully. `Any savage act of revenge seems possible in this land without law.'
`Revenge, yeah, naturally he'd hate me for beatin' him up,' Nick mused. `An' success would convert you into a most attractive widow. Have you thought o' that?'
The blood burned in her cheeks. `Obviously,' she cried sarcastically. `Why else should I be warning you?'
`I've had no encouragement to think you'd be sorry.' `Have I any reason to be?'
`Mebbe not,' he said slowly, `but mistress o' the S P, even at the cost o' bearin' my name, in secret, is better than bein' Bardoe's--toy. I'm obliged for yore warnin'.'
He went, leaving her angry, perplexed, but silenced. His last words, brutally blunt, were nevertheless true; looked at in that way, she ought to be grateful. Passionately she told herself she was not.
In the morning, Yorky convoyed his new boss and Lindy to the S P. Again they found a visitor waiting, but this time it was a sturdily-built, blue-jowled cowboy, with a craggy face in which the only distinguishing feature was a pronounced cast in one eye. This was Cullin's man, Sturm. Leaving Mary to speak with him, Yorky made for the bunkhouse, eager to inspect his new quarters.
He was about to push the door back when a sneering voice came from within:
`I tell you, hombres, eet weel be easy. Lamond say dees gal know no t'ing of de ranch beesness. She wed give us de feefty bucks a mont'. She young, pretty, an' weel be lonely; een a leetle time, I sleep at ze ranch-house.'
The listener slammed the door back and stepped in. The five men sitting at the table rose to their feet, staring at him.
Tomini, you are a filthy, foul-mouthed liar,' Yorky said, with deliberate stress upon the epithets. `Pull yore gun.'
The half-breed's eyes grew ugly. He knew he had been overheard, and that this would ruin his plans, unless ... He folded his arms, keeping his hands well away from his oelt.
`I do not war wit' cheeldren,' he said loftily.
`No, women are yore mark,' the boy retorted. `Do I have to slap yore face, you spawn of an Injun?'
The bitter taut had the desired effect, but not quite in the expected way. The man's right hand flashed up from his shoulder and down again. Only just in time Yorky caught the gleam of steel, snatched out his gun and fired. The heavy throwing-knife fanned his cheek as it passed to bury several inches of its blade in the jamb of the door. Tomini, reeling under the shook of a bullet in his shoulder, and mouthing curses in his own tongue, was fumbling for his pistol.
`Freeze!' Yorky barked. `Th' next slug goes through yore gizzard.'
It was at this moment that Sturm, followed by the breathless girl, appeared; they had heard the shot.