“Why, son,” he said, “are you hunting for work on my ranch?”
“That’s it,” said Andy. He had never known the old man well, and this generous greeting warmed his heart.
“You are? Then I’ll tell a man that this is my lucky day. I been looking for your make of a man for a long time. Sit down, lad. Sit down and lemme look you over.” He pushed Andrew into a chair. “In the old days they didn’t think much of you. I’ve heard ’em talk, the idiots! But I knowed that a Lanning was always a Lanning, same as a hawk is always a hawk, even if a chicken does the hatching.”
He kept grinning and chuckling to himself in the pauses of his talk.
“You go back and get your blankets,” he said, “and get ready to come along with me this evening. Or, if you ain’t got blankets, it don’t make any difference. I’ll fix you up like a king. I’ll give you an outfit any rider on the range would be proud of.”
“That’s mighty fine,” returned Andy, amazed by this cordiality. “About the wages … you can fix your own price. I’m pretty green at ranch work.”
“We’ll agree on wages,” said the old man. “Ain’t any trouble on that head.”
“Another thing you ought to know before you take me on. My horse ain’t very good at working cattle. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t even train her for that job. But if it’s just riding the range, she’ll be fine for that. But not for a lot of roping and heavy work.”
It seemed that Si Hulan was daunted by these remarks.
“Roping?” he demanded. “Roping? You? Why, boy, d’you think I’m going to use a mountain lion to pull a wagon? Cow work! Ride the range!” He rocked back on his heels, tucked his thumbs into the armholes of his vest, and burst into a roar of laughter.
“Son,” he said, when he found his voice again, “you hark to me. The job I got for you is right in your own line.” He lowered his tone, and his eyes twinkled discreetly. “Up yonder in the hills I got the finest little layout for moonshining that ever you see. I raise my own grain, you see, and I feed it into my own still. Nothing easier. And I got the still cached away where the best fox in the police service would never find it. Well, Andy, what I’m going to use you for is running that moonshine over the hills and down to the river. That’s where I market it. I got a tough gang of boys working the run for me now, but what I need is a leader that’ll keep ’em in order. And you’re the man for me. I guess they ain’t any of ’em so hard but what they’ll soften up when Andy Lanning gives ’em an order. As for the wages, they ain’t going to be none. You and me will just split up the profit, almost any reasonable way you say. I furnish the goods, and you take what little risk they is. It ain’t really no big risk. It’s for running the men that I want you.”
He had kept up his harangue so closely and with such a hot enthusiasm that Andrew could not interrupt him until he reached this point, and he interrupted by rising from the chair into which Si Hulan had thrust him.
“Mister Hulan,” he said slowly, “you got me all wrong. I’m going straight. I’m staying inside the law as long as the law will let me. Run your own still. It’s nothing to me, but I’ll have no hand in it.”
Hulan gasped. Then he nodded. “I see,” he said. “Trying me out? I don’t blame you for being mistrustful of folks after what you’ve been doing the past few years, but …”
“First and last and all the time,” said Andrew, “I mean what I say. I’m going straight, Hulan. I can’t take that job. But, if you got an honest job running cattle on the range, let me take a try at it, and I’ll thank you for the chance. I don’t care what the wages are.”
Hulan snorted, a flush growing up his withered face.
“That’s the song, is it?” he asked. “D’you think I’m a fool, Lanning? D’you think you have anybody in this town fooled? Don’t you suppose everybody knows that you’re in here on some crooked job?” His voice became a growl. “I’ll tell you one thing that may surprise you. You wonder why nobody has asked you to step out of town, why we’ve been so simple we’ve let you stay and make your plans and your plots, whatever they may be. But we ain’t been sleeping, Andy. Not by a long sight. They’s five of the best men in this town has got together and sworn to keep a hoss saddled night and day, ready to jump on your trail and run you down the minute you make your break. And we got other towns all posted, so we can get in touch with them pronto, the minute you tear loose.
“Why am I telling you all this? Simply to show you where you stand. No, Lanning, once wrong always wrong, and we know it. That’s why I make you my offer. Come out with me, and I’ll cover up your tracks. If you stay down here and try to work your game, we’ll get you the minute you step crooked. Why, you fool, we been holding our breath ever since you come in, waiting for a chance to nail you!”
Andrew Lanning watched him gloomily. It was all in line with the attitude of the younger men on the veranda of the hotel. It was perfectly plain now. They hated him; they feared him, and they would get him if they dared. They would bide their time. If appearances were against him for a moment, they would make their play. The governor of the state had pardoned him, but society had not forgiven him, would not forgive him. With a breaking heart, he saw the vision of Anne Withero, the happiness of which he had dreamed, grow dim and flicker out into complete darkness.
He turned slowly away from Hulan and stepped into the hall, and then slowly down the stairs. As he went, anger rose in him and swelled his heart. It was unfair, cruelly unfair. In some way they should be made to pay for their stupidity. He hated them all.
At the bottom of the stairs he came upon a knotted little group, standing with their heads together, listening to some jest or gossip.
“Get out of the way!” said Andy Lanning angrily.
They jerked their heads aside, saw him, and then melted back from his path. Andrew strode through them without deigning a glance in either direction. He detested them as much as they feared him. If they wanted war, let it be war. He heard the whisper stir behind him, but he strode on through the door and went slowly down the steps to the ground. War, indeed, had been declared.
VII
Through the little town of Martindale a single whisper traveled as distinctly and as swiftly as the report of cannon down a small gorge. Hal Dozier heard of the first outbreak of the ex-outlaw ten minutes after it happened. He went straight to the hotel and found a grave conclave deliberating on the veranda. There was no sign of the usual jesting or the usual tales. They crowded their heads close together and talked with frowns. The marshal knew that serious trouble was in the air.
He was more alarmed than ever when they fell silent at his approach. He singled out Si Hulan, who was among the rest, and put the question to him.
“What’s wrong with Andy Lanning?”
“What’s wrong? Everything’s wrong with him. He’s no good,” said the old rancher with deliberation. “I offer him a job with me … a regular, honest job at good pay,” continued Hulan, lying smoothly, “and the infernal young hound asked me what he got on the side. I asked him what he meant by that. He said I ought to know that he wasn’t interested in small-fry talk. He wanted action and big pay, and he didn’t care for the danger. That’s the sort of talk he gave me. I told him to get out of my room and never let me see his face again. And he went, growling.”
Hal Dozier scented the lie under this talk. He had known Hulan for a long time as a man of dubious life, but now it was impossible for him directly to challenge the statement. All he could say was: “It doesn’t sound like Andy. He doesn’t talk that way, Hulan.”
“Not to you. Sure he don’t talk that way to you,” said Hulan. “He’s pulled the wool over your eyes and made a fool of you, Hal. Everybody in town knows it except you, and it’s time that you be told. That kid comes to you and makes good talk, says he’s going to reform. The rest of us know that he’s gone wrong. Once wrong always wrong. He’s going to the bad, and you’re a fool to let him take you in.”