Chapter Ten

Swiftly Gladys recovered and drew away with a quick look around. She put away the gun and dried her eyes with a diminutive handkerchief.

“That wasn’t like me,” she said. “But you might as well come in a minute. I don’t expect Father back . . . right away.”

She led the way to the end of the cabin where there was a small closed-in porch, and a door into the kitchen. The housekeeper stared as the girl and Bond brushed past her and entered the living room. There Gladys paused by the table, resting one hand upon it and gazing at him doubtfully.

“I don’t know you,” she said slowly, “but I’ve just got to trust someone, I suppose, and it might as well be a stranger as one of the crowd that hangs around this town.”

“That’s me,” said Bond, nodding, with a sparkling light in his eyes. “You can trust me. I believe I told you that. I haven’t sprouted any wings, and don’t figure I ever will, but I’m not what you could call right out-and-out bad. I want to be the best friend you’ve got. I’ve made up my mind as to that.”

Something in his voice and look caused her to turn her gaze aside.

“What do you suppose Porky was doing here tonight?” she asked.

“I think he came here intending to steal anything he could get his hands on in the way of money,” replied Bond readily. “I happen to know he had an undesirable job on hand, and I think he wanted to beat it but didn’t have anything to beat it on.”

“He knows Father often has large sums of cash here,” said Gladys. “He pulled the picture away from the wall safe, for one thing, and looked in the drawers. He didn’t expect me home so soon.”

“Then I was right,” said Bond, nodding in satisfaction.

“Is . . . is he dead?” the girl faltered.

“No, and I don’t think he’s hard enough hit to die. That was brave of you to try to take the blame, Miss Gladys. But you might know I wouldn’t let you do that.” He smiled brightly.

“If you’re the man they think you are, you don’t need anyone to take the blame for anything you do,” she said slowly, looking at him intently.

“Meaning just what, Miss Gladys?” he blandly asked.

“Are you Bovert?” she countered quickly.

“I’m Jim Bond,” he replied. “Who’s this Bovert?”

The girl shrugged. “He’s a killer and all-around bad,” she answered, not once taking her eyes from his. “He’s bad enough for the sheriff to drift in here with word that he was on his way and to leave him alone. Guess he doesn’t want any more trouble out this way than he can help. Lester and even Dad think you’re Bovert, and . . . I’m wondering myself.”

“All right,” Bond said, his eyes flashing. “If I am Bovert, I’m bad. I’ll leave it to you to figure out just how bad I am. But it takes a bad one to play with this bunch. I’m not counting your dad in on everything, understand. And this is all between you and me. We’re getting acquainted fast. Suppose you just know me as Jim Bond, and forget the last name when you’re talking to me.”

“You don’t seem to be very much afraid of this bunch,” Gladys observed. “There was murder in Red Cole’s eyes twice tonight. How . . . what kind of a job did Porky have to do that he didn’t like, if it’s all right for me to ask?”

“Lester told him to follow your father, find out where he went and what he went for, if he could,” said Bond. “Lester seems to be interested in what your father does.”

The girl’s eyes flashed. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “He’s afraid Father will leave town for good. He knows Dad is a drawing card for his place and . . .” She bit her lip in apparent vexation.

Bond put his hat on the table and stepped closer to her. “Now, Miss Gladys, it’s time we talked frank and true. I’ve overheard a thing or two, but I’m just guessing. If you want me to help you, it’s up to you to come clean . . . to tell me what you think is up. I’ll shoot square and leave it to you to believe that my promise is good or not. But you’ve seen enough to know that I’m not in with anyone here.”

“I suppose not,” said the girl in a worried tone. “Well, I’ll take a chance. Father does want to leave here, and he wants to take me with him and . . . and I want to go. He has bought a big ranch in Texas. He has business to attend to before he can go, and that’s what is bothering me, because I don’t know what it is, and he won’t tell me. Lester doesn’t want him to go. I’m afraid that Lawson has some kind of a big play on, and that Dad’s going in with him. He’s after a big stake, and it would be like him to take a big risk to get it. Now you have the substance of what I know, or don’t know.”

“And that’s plenty,” said Jim Bond enthusiastically. “Now you and me can put two and two together and get our bearings.”

“You’ll have to do the rest of the guessing,” said Gladys wearily.

“And it’s my guess that you’re right”—Bond nodded—“but you haven’t gone far enough.” He looked at her thoughtfully. He was thinking of Red Cole’s indirect offer to go in with him on a job, which Cole thought Bond also had in mind. So Cole must see the handwriting on the wall, too. Bond smiled broadly.

“If Lawson is planning a big job, he figures on leaving the country, also,” he told the girl. “And Lester, maybe, is afraid he’ll lose both your dad and Lawson’s outfit into the bargain. Lawson and his bunch are good for a lot of money when they start spending. It’s a three-cornered affair, and I’m going to play it that way . . . from your father’s corner.” He took up his hat.

Gladys hurriedly put a hand on his arm. “You mustn’t . . . I mean you must be careful. What’re you going to do now?”

“I’m going to follow your dad myself,” Bond announced. “The thing for you to do is to get that Smith girl to stay with you while he’s away, and, outside of that, go on with your work just the same as if nothing was up.” He stepped toward the doorway leading into the kitchen. “You better have the light put out so I can slip out quick and sly,” he cautioned. “And then . . . don’t worry.”

His smile reassured the girl and she called to the housekeeper.

“Don’t take any big risk yourself,” she whispered as he left her.

Jim Bond went out with a thrill tingling within him, and the next instant he was alert and stealing through the shadows toward the spot where he had left his horse. He now sensed why Cole had accosted him at the roulette wheel. He understood Lester’s interest in him and Farlin’s evident desire to play safe, although the gambler undoubtedly had thought to lower him in Gladys’s estimation by playing on his suspected identity. As Bovert, he constituted a menace, as Jim Bond, he might easily be got rid of—perhaps. The part that he did not understand was the sheriff’s warning to leave him alone if he should be Bovert. Meanwhile, how were they to decide? By putting him to the test.

These thoughts were racing through Bond’s mind as he came to his horse. He untied the reins and had his left foot in the stirrup when a sharp command broke the stillness.

“Don’t get on that horse.”

Bond’s foot came down in the instant his hand was reaching for the saddle horn to mount. He was caught fairly, and turned to see a big form looming in the shadow behind a gun that glinted in the starlight.

“An’ don’t move much,” came the order. “Keep your right hand up in plain sight.”

“All right, Lester,” said Bond, recognizing the voice. “And you’re kind of at a disadvantage in this light, are you not?”

“Not so much,” said Big Tom with a short laugh. He stepped close to Bond and slipped his gun into its holster with a quick movement. “I’m willing to take a chance that I can shoot as quick as you can draw. This was the quickest way to stop you without startin’ a fuss an’ making a noise. It won’t do you any good to draw now.”

Bond glanced about quickly, trying to pierce the darkness in the trees.

“Don’t worry,” said Lester. “There’s nobody here but me.”

“Then you were taking more chances than you thought,” Bond snapped, drawing his gun. “Now it doesn’t make much difference if there’s anyone around or not.”

“I couldn’t talk to you in the shop,” said Lester, “so I waited till your visit to the young lady was over. I knew you’d go back up there, an’ I don’t blame you.”

“That last remark wasn’t necessary,” said Bond. “You seem to be a busy man.” His words implied a sneer.

“I reckon Dan Farlin would be less pleased than ever, if he knew Bovert was sneakin’ visits to his daughter behind his back,” said Lester, his words heavy with meaning.

“No doubt,” Bond agreed. “This Bovert is bad medicine, I understand. Does he visit Farlin’s place when Farlin knows it?”

Lester started to laugh again, but cut his simulated hilarity short.

“Never mind,” he said in a patronizing tone. “I know you said your name was Bond, an’ that’s all right with me. I’m not telling what I know to anybody but you.” He paused, and his listener knew he was bluffing. “I take it you’re not up here on a vacation.”

Bond started. It was the same intimation that had been made by Red Cole. Were two sides of the triangle trying to use him? He determined to learn what he could.

“I’m not old enough to take a vacation,” he said, dropping the reins from his left hand.

“Of course not . . . an’ that was just an opening.” There were assurance and confidence in Lester’s voice. “I’ve got a proposition. I don’t know what you’ve got in mind to pull up here, an’ I don’t care.” He paused to clear his throat and Bond immediately decided that this last was sheer bravado.

“I’ll pay you well,” Big Tom went on. “Porky went up to Farlin’s tonight to steal some money. You caught him at it an’ put him out for keeps. I had him in mind for another job. He wanted to beat it, for his nerve was gone. You can do the business, if you will, an’ it’ll give you an edge on Farlin in the bargain.”

“I didn’t put Porky out for keeps,” said Bond, frowning.

“He’s too old . . . he won’t pull out of it,” said Lester.

“Because you don’t want him to, eh? You’re pretty lowdown, Lester. I wouldn’t finish the job on Porky, if I were you, and that’s putting it to you straight. I mean it. That poor chap didn’t have a chance with you. And you want to hand his job to me.”

“I’d hand you a different job than I’d care to hand him,” growled Lester. “I’m not afraid of you, Bov—. . . I mean Bond. If you was to have real trouble with me, it would only hurt any game you’ve got in mind up here. You’ve got sense enough to see that.”

“Maybe you’re right,” said Bond, thinking fast. “What have you got in mind for me to do?”

Big Tom stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Dan Farlin is goin’ out of town. He’s goin’ soon. Follow him, find out where he goes, an’ why, if you can, an’ let me know. I’ll slip you a couple thousand, maybe five, an’ let you in on something if you want it. An’ I won’t ask any questions.”

Bond stood still, staring at him in amazement. Either the man was a plain fool, or he had some dangerous ulterior motive. Bond decided the latter was the case.

“All right,” he said, “but suppose I run into Lawson’s bunch? Cole has me on his list, you know.”

“Cole an’ the rest of them, except Lawson, left town a few minutes ago, ridin’ west,” said Lester. “Lawson is stayin’ over, but you’re not likely to run into him. Of course, you may have to take a chance or two, but I guess that ain’t out of your line.”

“No, I reckon not,” said Bond vaguely.

“Then why . . . ?” Lester stopped and listened. The sound of a horse’s flying hoofs came to them clearly from the trail leading east out of town.

“I . . . that must be Farlin startin’,” said Lester, excited.

“In that case, I’ll slide along after him,” said Bond. “But there’s one thing, Lester. Keep the wolves away from the Farlin cabin, and let Porky get well by himself. Is it a part of the bargain or not? If not . . . I don’t go.”

“It’s a part,” said Lester eagerly. “Go ahead, an’ don’t fall down on me, for I . . .”

But Bond had swung into the saddle and was riding in the shadow of the trees toward the east trail that crossed the plain to Crazy Butte and swung off to Rocky Point.