A MILE below Crazy Woman Pass, with the Basin spread out at their feet, Doc Lantry insisted on stopping to divide the proceeds of the robbery.
“We’ll never be safer, or more to ourselves, than we are right here,” he declared. “These leather bags have got to be burned up, too.”
“What’s the idea?” Reb queried curiously, a thread of amusement in his voice. “Why not go on to the ranch an’ do it?”
“Because I say we do it now!” Lantry snapped.
“Well, don’t bust a cinch about it,” Reb told him lightly.
“I’ll bust whatever I have to, to head off yore damned arguments,” Doc retorted tartly. “We’ll do this thing the way I want it done.”
Perceiving suddenly how the land lay, Reb let it go, content to give Lantry his way in small matters. It was one of the few opportunities Doc had left to save his pride. He didn’t need to be told by this time that any real argument with Reb was unlikely to be won by himself.
The truth was that since the hold-up in Castle Gate, Doc had been struggling to alter the situation between them. Trails were taken because he wanted to; things were done to suit his taste. He believed that Reb’s taking the definite step into outlawry would remove any grounds the latter had for assuming superiority; that it set them on an equal footing, wherein as time went on he could reassert his natural right of authority. Reb read the thought in him. He bided his time, without troubling to correct Doc. Experience, however slow, is a sure teacher.
They divided the money. Doc lit a small fire and burned the paymaster’s leather bags. Then they went on.
Gloomy Jepson was in solitary charge at Ghost Creek when they rode in. One look at his long, dissatisfied face as he followed Doc Lantry’s self-complacent movements about the dugout told Reb why Doc had insisted they split their booty before arriving at the ranch. He did not intend that Gloomy should share in their haul in any way.
Later in the day Reb peeled seven hundred dollars off his roll—his own share amounted to several thousands—and seeking out Gloomy, he handed over the sum.
“This is yore cut, Gloomy,” he said easily.
Jepson took it suspiciously, his melancholy eyes suddenly sharpened. He did not know what to say. “I s’pose Doc—” he began.
“He knows,” Reb put him off, to save his feelings. “Yuh don’t think Doc’d make a haul without lettin’ yuh in on it, do yuh?”
Gloomy did not say what he thought on that head. “Doc’s all right,” he averred defensively. There was a hint of jealousy in his voice as he added: “The money don’t mean so much t’ me. But I shore would’a liked to go ’long—”
“I ain’t got nothin’ against Doc, myself,” Reb assured him, pleased by his loyalty; “but Gloomy, I think I like you better, all the same.”
It was so much like something Gloomy had heard before, yet so much more generously put, that he could not help being struck by the comparison. He asked diffidently what had happened, and where. Reb told him, rather slighting his own part than otherwise. By his way of it, the job had been incredibly easy and everything had gone according to schedule.
Riding back from a survey of the pasture—and a scout for roving peace officers—Lantry caught them talking together. At least he thought he did. His somber gaze, suddenly heavy and hard, shifted from Gloomy to Reb.
“Braggin’ already?” he remarked caustically.
It was not the crude attempt to insert a wedge between Jepson and himself that Reb took note of, here. The very form of Doc’s bitter wit was a confession that he had played second fiddle in the Idaho stick-up. Santee found it worth a smile. Doc did not wait for his lightly-voiced rejoinder.
He said: “Gloomy, there’s half-a-dozen wabbly posts young Farragoh didn’t git to, on the north side of the pasture. Better git out there an’ tamp ’em down.”
Jepson nodded. Without response he moved toward the corral. Lantry followed him to elaborate on his instructions. Reb looked after them, unmoving, a new light in his crinkled eyes.
“I reckon it’s no news that Doc is jealous of me,” he mused. “But if he thinks he’s gotta keep Gloomy away from my wicked influence it’s gettin’ to a point where I better begin to do some thinkin’.”
He had not forgotten Lantry’s endeavor last fall to undermine him with the Logans and the rest of the Wild Bunch. Still fresh in his mind was the outcome of that attempt. By a quirk of fate Doc had won then, in a left-handed way. But it was wholly unlikely that this would weigh against his accumulating resentment.
“I hope Gloomy keeps his mouth shut about that seven hundred,” Reb thought on. “Doc’d shore figure I was tryin’ to buy the man.”
What he would do with him when he had him, was something Lantry would not pause to ask. The first impulse of his enfiamed jealousy would be retaliation. Impotent, foolish as Doc’s rage was, it went without saying that it would take the form of treachery.
“I’ll jest keep an eye on him,” Reb told himself, and thought no more about the matter.
Billy Farragoh rode in two days later. Lantry queried him brusquely concerning his survey of purchaseable cattle. Doc was still riding his high horse. Despite Billy’s expressed belief that he would have no trouble in gathering a herd, his whole manner was one of implied criticism.
“Lay off the rough stuff, Doc,” Reb was moved to interpose, before this had gone far. Billy’s done a good job for yuh.”
They were in the dugout at the time. Lantry slammed down a fork, the handle of which he had been using to scrape out his pipe, and glared at Reb.
“Why the hell shouldn’t he do a good job?” he retorted sharply. “He knows everybody in the Basin, don’t he? What do yuh think I picked him fer?” He delivered himself of further remarks in questionable taste. “Where d’you fit into this?” he broke off pointedly.
Reb’s mouth had relaxed; but when he looked at Doc in a certain way, the latter was never sure whether the glint in his eye was the light of humor or of something else. He took an easy step now, arid fronted Doc, not three feet away from him.
“What I’m gettin’ at,” he explained temperately, “is that everybody don’t know yuh like I do. Billy’s liable to think, from yore tone, yuh got somethin’ against him. He don’t know yo’re takin’ out a private grudge on the first handy man. But I do, Doc.”
“The hell with you!” Doc burst out violently.
Billy Farragoh stared at them both in amazement. “What’s this all about?” he inquired. “My skin isn’t as thin as you seem to think, Reb—”
Suddenly he became aware that Santee was not listening to him. Nor was Doc Lantry. The two measured each other as if they were alone in the dugout, alone in the world, with a difference to be settled. Reb was grinning at Doc with an ease that amounted to ridicule.
“Yuh don’t mean that, Doc,” he said softly. “I won’t even ask yuh to take it back.”
Not even Billy needed to be told that here was dynamite.
Doc exploded into nervous curses, his leaping apprehensions at his throat. What was Reb getting at? His innate, deep-hidden cowardice before this man, alone among all men, corroded his soul like an acid.
“Yuh know whether I mean it or not,” he ground out. “An’ Santee, if yuh think yuh can make me take it back, or anything else, why don’t yuh try it out!” It was the open break. He did not care what he said, grasping any pretext to vent his bile.
Reb understood him. “Gwan!” he returned with thin scorn, not yet angered. “Take yore hot head outside an’ cool it. This is a nice show yo’re puttin’ on here.”
It drove Doc to frenzy. He made noises in his throat, starting forward. Reb stopped him with an upraised arm across his chest, the fingers biting into his shoulder. They paused, toe to toe.
“Better think it over, Doc. If yo’re bound to make me bust yuh, I will.”
He flung the man back as easily as he would have brushed aside a willow branch. Doc slammed against the table. It supported him, its legs scraping. His face blackened, his lips drew up.
“Damn yuh!” he flared, his voice trembling. “It’s no mystery what yo’re drivin’ at, tryin’ to make a fool of me! Yuh can cover Farragoh now, an’ yuh can git around Gloomy’s soft side; but it don’t fool me. I’ll make yuh sweat one o’ these days, an’ mebbe some more o’ yore fine friends, too!”
He was backing toward the door, glaring his implacable, unveiled hatred. He kept his hands wide of his belt. The watchfulness faded out of Reb’s eyes as Doc sidled crab-wise through the door and was gone. He had held his breath with a tautness which must have communicated itself, for fear Lantry might blurt something that was better left unsaid in this moment. That danger past, he was himself once more.
Billy Farragoh was no less mystified than before. He turned to Reb inquiringly.
“What made Doc blow up like that?” he queried. “Do you know?”
“Well, I reckon it don’t bother me, why he did,” Reb stalled competently. “But yuh heard me tell him. He’s had it in fer me.... Shucks! It don’t amount to nothin’,” he added. “Tell me how yuh found folks while yuh was away.”
They discussed this and other things.
“Some of the ranchers aren’t home yet. I had to change my plans somewhat on my trip,” said Billy. “I stopped by here, Sunday, but you were away.” He did not see the sudden covert look Reb shot him. “Gloomy said you and Doc had gone somewhere for the day.”
“Yeh,” Reb lied easily, catching himself; “we was lookin’ out the lower range.” It gave him a twinge to deceive Billy even in such a manner, but he did not hesitate. Better to cut off the boy’s curiosity at the root than to get involved in some elaborate explanation of a prolonged absence. “Now yuh done what yuh could for Doc,” he went on, anxious to change the subject, “I suppose as soon as yuh get yore five hundred, yuh’ll pull out in a hurry.”
“I expect I would.” Billy did not ask if Reb had the money. “I’ve decided to quit anyway,” he confessed. “I have no intention of making trouble between you and Doc.”
“I told yuh that didn’t amount to nothin’,” Reb rejoined; “but this’ll make that scarcely worth while arguin’ about.” He pulled out a bandana into which he had previously knotted the five hundred dollars, in a variety of small denominations so that Billy would think he had saved it.
“Gee, I—” Billy was dumfounded, looking at the bills. “This is just swell. Reb, you’re the tops with me!” he exclaimed fervently.
“That ain’t why I’m doin’ this,” Reb told him gruffly. “I want to see yuh do what yuh want. Yore mother deserves it. Yuh both do, I reckon.”
“Golly, won’t mother be pleased!” Billy’s enthusiasm lifted him up. “I’ll be in Lander in another week! Mother’ll be as proud of you, Reb, as she is of me. And Ronda—”
“Don’t tell her!” The ejaculation was jerked out of Reb before he could stop it.
“Why not?” Billy looked puzzled. “Nonsense! Why shouldn’t I tell her?”
“Well—” Reb temporized lamely. “Maybe it would be all right. Only I ...” He stopped. It gave him a turn that Ronda should think he had done this fine thing, while as a matter of fact the money had been stolen. Even if she didn’t know, the idea of the thing—
“I can see through you,” Billy grinned, relieved by his own thoughts. “You don’t want folks to know how good you are.”
Reb let him have it so. But he was troubled. “If Ronda or Billy ever found out where that money came from, they’d never look at me again,” the new thought bored in, shocking him like the bite of a steel trap. These things went on and on, without end. He told himself that without Billy’s need, he would never have turned to outlawry; that now the necessity was gone, he would not be weak a second time. It was cold comfort, but it was all he had.
Billy told Lantry that evening that he was quitting. Doc accepted the news with a grunt. He asked no questions.
“You’re going to ride to the Point with me, aren’t you, while I tell mother?” Billy asked Reb, as he saddled up.
“No,” Reb decided reluctantly; “not now. But I’ll prob’ly see yuh again before yuh leave.”
There were more protestations of gratitude on Billy’s part, and then he was gone. Reb stood in the doorway, watching him ride away.
“Wal, are yuh satisfied now?” Lantry snarled from behind him.
Reb seemed to awaken from a reverie, turning.
“I know what yuh think, Doc,” he said with a wintry smile; “an’ it ain’t true. I didn’t tell that boy to get out. You drove him out! ... I dunno what yuh was thinkin’ of. If it was anybody else, yo’re blowin’d soon be allover the Basin. I tell yuh, I’m about sick of it.”
“Wal, it won’t be long before yuh have somethin’ else to worry about,” Doc flung back, almost with relish. “In ’nother month yuh can forget young Farragoh, an’ the rest of the Basin, too!” He was referring to the return of the Sundance Kid and his crowd.
To be reminded thus, while he still had no inkling what his future course would be, gave Reb something to think about, indeed. But he did not forget Billy Farragoh. Nor, it appeared, had Billy forgotten him. He rode out the day before he left for Lander, and found Reb riding across the range.
“Reb, I don’t like to think of your staying on here with Lantry, for some reason,” he said, during the course of their talk. “I don’t want to mix into your business, but he certainly doesn’t appreciate you. Why don’t you go riding for some other outfit?”
“Well, it suits me here,” Reb responded. “Doc don’t bother me.”
“Jube Cameron has returned home,” Billy went on with studied casualness. “He wants to see you some time before long.”
Reb’s attention was caught. “What about?” he asked. And after a moment: “Does he aim to offer me a job?”
“I think he does.” Billy did not want to explain that he had had a talk with the rancher about Reb’s unenviable situation, or as much of it as he understood. But to Reb it was as plain as print that this was what had happened.
For a moment there came over him a desire to chuck the whole business; to take the job with Cameron and defy Doc and the others, expose them if necessary. He could win through somehow, he thought. But the impulse did not last.
“It wouldn’t be square,” he told himself soberly. “It’s too late, anyway. Doc would squawk about that Castle Gate business, an’ I’d be on the run. He’d see me behind the bars before he’d see me inside the law again.”
“No,” he said aloud; “I don’t reckon I’ll take a job with Jube, nice as it is of him to want me. But I’ll go over an’ see him,” he added. “I can do that much, anyhow.”
They left it at that.