THE PLAN DISCUSSED.
“There!” said Claude, as he lifted his face from the towel and gazed
after the two men who were walking into the dining-room. “I have given
them something to chew on. I don’t know whether they believe that
Uncle Preston is guilty of meanness or not—I rather think, from the
expression of their faces, that they do not; but it will show them what
_I_ think, and perhaps it will amount to something.”
Thompson, the foreman, was the one who objected to Mr. Preston hiring
the men, and he showed it so plainly that it is a wonder the men did
not see it. During the week following he would hardly pay any attention
to them except to give them their orders, and he got through with that
as soon as possible. At the end of that time he found opportunity to
speak to Mr. Preston privately.
“So you have hired those two men, have you?” said he.
“I have, and I didn’t think I could do any better,” said his employer.
“I should not raise a bit of fault with them if they were
stock-herders,” said Thompson, “but I know they are not. When you go
down to the fort make inquiries about them, and you will find that they
have Indian wives. These men are making forty-five dollars a month, and
their wives are getting their provisions for nothing.”
“Oh, I guess you are mistaken. These men must have had some object in
coming here.”
“Yes, they have. Where do you keep the key to your safe?”
“In my pocket, of course.”
“Then it is all right. The cook will be here while you are around the
house, and it will be dangerous for anybody to try to get it. You will
be around with me or with Carl——”
“And Claude, too,” interrupted Mr. Preston.
“Well, the least said about Claude the better,” said Thompson.
“Why, you don’t suspect Claude of having designs on that safe, do you?”
said Mr. Preston in surprise.
“I don’t suspect anything; but you just take my advice and keep your
eyes on that safe. You’ve got most too much money in there.”
“I declare this beats me! Things have come to a pretty pass when a man
cannot keep in his possession what money he needs.”
“I am only just telling you what I believe,” said Thompson. “I have had
an eye on that man Claude for a long time. When you pay off the hands
he is the last one in your office, and I expect he takes particular
notice of where you put the key.”
“Thompson,” said Mr. Preston, suddenly putting his hand into his
pocket, “do me the favor to keep this key. I am not as strong as I used
to be——”
“I know you are not,” said the foreman sadly. “Time was when you would
have gloried to have somebody come here with the intention of walking
off with the contents of that safe, but it ain’t so now. I will take
the key, and if anybody gets it, it will be when I am laid out.”
Thompson rode off to attend to his duties, feeling much better than he
did when he began his conversation with his employer. He was hale and
strong, a dead shot, as utterly devoid of fear as it is possible for
a man to be, and it would be a dangerous piece of business for one to
attempt to put his hand onto that key while it was in his possession.
“I feel all right now,” said Thompson, who drew a long breath of
relief. “I have been worrying about that key ever since Claude has
been here, but now I would like to see him get it. Many a time, before
Claude came here, I have seen Mr. Preston go off and leave the key to
that safe sticking in the lock for weeks at a time, and nobody ever
thought of going near it. He has been a little cautious about that
ever since I spoke to him concerning it. I’ll take the cook into my
confidence. He is a sure shot, keeps his revolvers hung up where he can
put his hands on them at an instant’s warning, and with him watching in
the house and me watching outside we have the dead wood on them.”
The conversation had a very different effect upon Mr. Preston.
He became suspicious of everybody. He watched his men and Claude
continually; and, though they were always respectful in their manner
toward him, he felt that there was something behind it all. One reason
was because Claude had not yet talked with the men. He was waiting for
them to “show their hands,” and that came about right speedily. When
the fall round-up came, and the young cattle had to be branded, it
chanced that Claude and the two men were together during the best part
of the day. As long as Thompson was with them they went about their
work in earnest; but when the foreman went away, Harding, who seemed
to have been waiting for this opportunity, entered upon the subject
at once. He must have known just how the matter was coming out, or he
would have been a little more cautious about it.
“You say your uncle treats all his hands mean,” said he, addressing
himself to Claude. “I think he treats us all right.”
“No doubt he does you,” replied Claude, “but he is only waiting for an
opportunity to turn loose on you. If we should let these steers get
away from us and start toward the entrance of the valley, then you
would see what kind of a man uncle is.”
“Well, I don’t know as I blame him any for that,” said Harding. “There
are lots of cattle on the prairie for them to mingle with.”
“You ought to be in my place once,” said Claude. “You would get a
blessing every night for not doing your work up right. I tell you, I am
getting sick of it.”
“Why don’t you quit him?”
“Because I haven’t any other place to go. Forty-five dollars a month is
better than nothing.”
“You say he has lots of money in that safe?” continued Harding, coming
down to the point at once.
“Oceans of it.”
“Do you know where he keeps the key?”
“I do. He has it in his pocket; but then he takes his clothes off
every night and throws them over a chair.”
“Do you suppose you could work your way in there at night and get it?
You would have to be careful and not wake him up.”
“Oh, yes, I could do it. Uncle sleeps like a log.”
Harding went off at a lope to catch a steer that objected to being
rounded up, and when he came back Claude waited for him to say
something more; but the cowboy seemed to have had his talk out. After
waiting until his patience was exhausted, Claude broke in with——
“Now, I want to know what you mean by inquiring in regard to uncle’s
safe? It’s there in the office, and there is nobody going to rob it,
either.”
“How much money do you think he has in the safe?” asked Harding. “It
wouldn’t pay to break into it and get nothing out.”
“He has eighteen hundred dollars in there that I know of,” said
Claude. “I remember that when he sold those hundred head to the
paymaster at the fort I passed through the hall and saw a big wad of
greenbacks on the table. He got twenty dollars apiece for the cattle,
and that would clear him two thousand dollars; but he has since paid
out about two hundred of it.”
“That’s a power of money,” said Harding, his eyes sparkling when he
thought of handling that amount. “That would be—how much apiece?”
“For three of us? That would make six hundred dollars.”
“Now, can you keep still if I tell you something?” asked Harding
suddenly.
“Of course I can. I can keep a secret.”
“Well, Ainsworth and me have come here with the intention of seeing the
contents of that safe before we go away.”
“I know it.”
“You do?” exclaimed Harding, looking at him suspiciously. “Who told you
of it?”
“Nobody. I just knew it from the way you acted.”
“Do you suppose anyone else suspects it?”
“Not that I know of. You have kept still when other people were
around, and I don’t think anybody mistrusts you.”
“We will give you one-third of what we get if you will go in with us
and get the key.”
“I am in for it; but the question is, what shall we do to keep the
money after we get it? The whole country will be after us.”
“And it will take more than the whole country to catch us, too,” said
Harding with a grin. “We’ll go off among the Sioux Indians.”
If Claude had had any intention of joining the squawmen in any attempt
on the safe, this proposition of Harding’s would almost have taken his
breath away. He had seen some of the Indians during the two years he
had been there, and the idea of taking up his abode with them was not
to be thought of for a moment. They were so filthy that he could not
bear to go near them; but he had another motive in view. All he wanted
now was to get at Harding’s plans, and then he would go straight to his
uncle with them. He was sure that in that way he would get a reward for
saving him from being robbed.
“Well, what do you say?” asked Harding.
“Will you feel perfectly safe from capture while you live with the
Sioux?” asked Claude.
“Oh, yes. The Indians always have spies among the white folks, and they
would keep us posted. They can’t catch us there.”
“Well, I will go. When do you think you will make the attempt?”
“To-morrow night, if my partner agrees to it. I am getting sick of this
cattle business. I long to be back in my tepee, where I can lay down
and smoke as long as I please. I’ll speak to my partner at noon, and
I’ll tell you what he says. Here comes that Thompson. I’d like to get
him out on the prairie where I could get a fair squint at him with my
rifle. I would teach him to lay around and watch his betters.”
“Here, boys!” shouted the foreman as he galloped up; “you don’t drive
these cattle fast enough. It will be dark before we get them down to
the corral. You Claude! take after that fellow and bring him back.”
Claude put his horse into a gallop and “took after” the unwilling
steer who objected to going toward the corral; but he was grateful to
Thompson for sending him away, for he wanted to have time to compose
his features. His chance for making money had come at last. Of course
there was a chance for him to arouse the suspicion of the squawmen,
who would take speedy revenge upon him, and that was one thing against
which he must guard himself. He would not be seen any more in his
uncle’s company than he had been heretofore, and when Carl came toward
him for the purpose of helping him he had business on the flank of the
drove, at some little distance away.
“I know I am all right now,” said Claude to himself, “and the main
thing must be to keep myself all right. If I am seen around in your
company, and the squawmen shall slip up on their plan of robbing the
safe, I will be the first to suffer for it. I’ll wait until night, and
then I’ll fix things as they ought to be.”
But it seemed to him that night was a long way off. The cattle were
driven toward the corral, the calves separated from them and put in
the inclosure, and amid the confusion and noise that attended all this
Ainsworth found time to give Claude an encouraging wink.
“What do you mean by that?” whispered Claude.
“It is all right,” was the reply. “We will see you to-morrow night and
tell you what to do.”
“Look here,” said Claude, looking all around to make sure that no one
was watching him, “I am not to do anything but get the key, am I?”
“No—that will be enough for us.”
“And I am to get my third of the money as soon as we get it?”
“Sure. You don’t think we would try to take it away from you?”
“Well, I don’t know. You cowboys are mighty reckless in handling money,
and you might tell me to look farther before you would give me a cent.”
“As sure as you live and breathe we have no such an idea,” said
Ainsworth, opening his eyes in surprise. “You get the key for us and we
will give you the money.”
“That is a little too far-fetched,” thought Claude, as the last calf
was driven inside the corral. “You were almost too ready to promise me
that money. It must be pretty near night now, and I am just aching to
tell my uncle of the plans that have been laid against him. How much
will he give me? Five thousand dollars at least. If he gives me less
than that I shall be sorry I told him.”