第95章 CHAPTER XX(4)

Presently a horse shot up his ears, the first indication of scent or sound imperceptible to the men. But with this cue they all, except Wilson, sat up attentively. Soon the crack of iron-shod hoofs on stone broke the silence. Riggs nervously rose to his feet. And the others, still excepting Wilson, one by one followed suit. In another moment a rangy bay horse trotted out of the cedars, up to the camp, and his rider jumped off nimbly for so heavy a man.

"Howdy, Beasley?" was Anson's greeting.

"Hello, Snake, old man!" replied Beasley, as his bold, snapping black eyes swept the group. He was dusty and hot, and wet with sweat, yet evidently too excited to feel discomfort. "I seen your smoke signal first off an' jumped my hoss quick. But I rode north of Pine before I headed 'round this way. Did you corral the girl or did Riggs? Say!

-- you look queer! . . . What's wrong here? You haven't signaled me for nothin'?

Snake Anson beckoned to Bo.

"Come out of the shade. Let him look you over."The girl walked out from under the spreading cedar that had hidden her from sight.

Beasley stared aghast -- his jaw dropped.

"Thet's the kid sister of the woman I wanted!" he ejaculated.

"So we've jest been told."

Astonishment still held Beasley.

"Told?" he echoed. Suddenly his big body leaped with a start. "Who got her? , Who fetched her?""Why, Mister Gunman Riggs hyar," replied Anson, with a subtle scorn.

"Riggs, you got the wrong girl," shouted Beasley. "You made thet mistake once before. What're you up to?""I chased her an' when I got her, seein' it wasn't Nell Rayner -- why -- I kept her, anyhow," replied Riggs. "An' I've got a word for your ear alone."

"Man, you're crazy -- queerin' my deal thet way!" roared Beasley. "You heard my plans. . . . Riggs, this girl-stealin' can't be done twice. Was you drinkin' or locoed or what?""Beasley, he was giving you the double-cross," cut in Bo Rayner's cool voice.

The rancher stared speechlessly at her, then at Anson, then at Wilson, and last at Riggs, when his brown visage shaded dark with rush of purple blood. With one lunge he knocked Riggs flat, then stood over him with a convulsive hand at his gun.

"You white-livered card-sharp! I've a notion to bore you. .

. . They told me you had a deal of your own, an' now Ibelieve it."

"Yes -- I had," replied Riggs, cautiously getting up. He was ghastly. "But I wasn't double-crossin' you. Your deal was to get the girl away from home so you could take possession of her property. An' I wanted her.""What for did you fetch the sister, then?" demanded Beasley, his big jaw bulging.

"Because I've a plan to --"

"Plan hell! You've spoiled my plan an' I've seen about enough of you." Beasley breathed hard; his lowering gaze boded an uncertain will toward the man who had crossed him;his hand still hung low and clutching.

"Beasley, tell them to get my horse. I want to go home,"said Bo Rayner.

Slowly Beasley turned. Her words enjoined a silence. What to do with her now appeared a problem.

"I had nothin' to do with fetchin' you here an' I'll have nothin' to do with sendin' you back or whatever's done with you," declared Beasley.

Then the girl's face flashed white again and her eyes changed to fire.

"You're as big a liar as Riggs," she cried, passionately.

"And you're a thief, a bully who picks on defenseless girls.

Oh, we know your game! Milt Dale heard your plot with this outlaw Anson to steal my sister. You ought to be hanged --you half-breed greaser!"

"I'll cut out your tongue!" hissed Beasley.

"Yes, I'll bet you would if you had me alone. But these outlaws -- these sheep-thieves -- these tools you hire are better than you and Riggs. . . . What do you suppose Carmichael will do to you? Carmichael! He's my sweetheart --that cowboy. You know what he did to Riggs. Have you brains enough to know what he'll do to you?""He'll not do much," growled Beasley. But the thick purplish blood was receding from his face. "Your cowpuncher --""Bah!" she interrupted, and she snapped her fingers in his face. "He's from Texas! He's from TEXAS!""Supposin' he is from Texas?" demanded Beasley, in angry irritation. "What's thet? Texans are all over. There's Jim Wilson, Snake Anson's right-hand man. He's from Texas. But thet ain't scarin' any one."He pointed toward Wilson, who shifted uneasily from foot to foot. The girl's flaming glance followed his hand.

"Are you from Texas?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss, I am -- an' I reckon I don't deserve it,"replied Wilson. It was certain that a vague shame attended his confession.

"Oh! I believed even a bandit from Texas would fight for a helpless girl!" she replied, in withering scorn of disappointment.

Jim Wilson dropped his head. If any one there suspected a serious turn to Wilson's attitude toward that situation it was the keen outlaw leader.

"Beasley, you're courtin' death," he broke in.

"You bet you are!" added Bo, with a passion that made her listeners quiver. "You've put me at the mercy of a gang of outlaws! You may force my sister out of her home! But your day will come.' Tom Carmichael will KILL you."Beasley mounted his horse. Sullen, livid, furious, he sat shaking in the saddle, to glare down at the outlaw leader.

"Snake, thet's no fault of mine the deal's miscarried. I was square. I made my offer for the workin' out of my plan. It 'ain't been done. Now there's hell to pay an' I'm through.""Beasley, I reckon I couldn't hold you to anythin'," replied Anson, slowly. "But if you was square you ain't square now.

We've hung around an' tried hard. My men are all sore. An' we're broke, with no outfit to speak of. Me an' you never fell out before. But I reckon we might.""Do I owe you any money -- accordin' to the deal?" demanded Beasley.

"No, you don't," responded Anson, sharply.