AN UNPLEASANT VISIT.
IT will be recalled that during these incidents Monteith Sterry and
Fred Whitney were sitting at the front of the long, low building,
which was the home of the latter, discussing the incidents of the
last day or two, as well as the matter of Whitney removing, with
his family, to the East, in order to prevent any addition to the
affliction they had just suffered.
Besides this, Whitney had turned on his young friend, and impressed
upon him that he, too, was incurring unjustifiable risk by remaining
in Wyoming during the inflamed state of public feeling. There was much
less excuse in the case of Sterry than of his host. He ought to be at
home prosecuting the study of his profession, as his parents wished
him to do. His health was fully restored, and it cannot be denied that
he was wasting his precious days. He was fond of his father, mother,
brothers and sisters, and it would grieve them beyond expression if he
should uselessly sacrifice himself.
"Yes," he replied, "I cannot deny the truth of what you say, Fred. I
ought to leave this part of the country."
"Of course; you're not needed; your future has been mapped for you,
and it is hard to make up lost time."
"We found that out at the high school," returned Mont, with a light
laugh; "but the pearl of great price, in a worldly sense, is good
health, and I have been repaid in securing it."
"And having secured it, it remains--Mont," added his companion
abruptly, but without the slightest change of tone, "don't stop to ask
me why, but step quickly through the door and into the house, and keep
out of sight for a few minutes."
"I understand," said Sterry, obeying without an instant's hesitation.
The prompt, unquestioning compliance with the request of Fred Whitney
showed that Monteith Sterry understood the reason that it was made of
him.
The truth was, that during the last few minutes the young men were
talking in front of the house, each descried something suspicious on
the broad plain. They instinctively lowered their voices, and though
neither made reference to it, both gave more attention to it than to
their own words.
They heard nothing of the tramp of horses, but saw the shadowy
figures of several men hovering on what may be termed the line of
invisibility. Sometimes they were distinguished quite clearly, and
then seemed to vanish; but the youths could not be mistaken.
A number of persons were out there, not mounted, but on foot, and
moving about, without approaching any closer, for the space of several
minutes. It looked as if they were reconnoitering the house from a
distance and debating the best manner of procedure.
The suspicions of the friends were the same. They were rustlers
looking for the inspector.
Mont Sterry would have preferred to stay where he was and have it out
with them, but the circumstances were so peculiar that he could not
refuse to do as his comrade requested.
The cause of Whitney's wish was the abrupt increasing distinctness
of the figures, proof that they had reached a decision and were
approaching the house.
They speedily came into plain sight, four men, in the garb of cowmen,
and they were rustlers beyond question.
Conscious that they were seen, they now advanced directly, as if
coming from a distance, though the fact that they were on foot showed
that such was not the case.
With feelings which it would be hard to describe, Fred Whitney
recognized the first as Larch Cadmus, wearing the same whiskers as
before. Had he been thoughtful enough to disguise his voice the young
man would not have suspected his identity.
The moon had worked around into that quarter of the heavens that its
light shone on the figure of Fred, who rose to his feet, as was his
custom, and advanced a few paces to meet the newcomers.
"Good evening!" he said. "How happens it that you are afoot at this
time of night?"
"Our horses ain't fur off," replied Cadmus; "the rest of the boys
didn't think it worth while to trouble you."
"What do you mean by troubling me?" asked Fred, though he understood
the meaning.
"We're on an unpleasant errand," continued Cadmus, acting as the
spokesman of the party, the others remaining in the background and
maintaining silence.
"Shall I bring chairs for you? It is so unusually mild to-night that
I am sitting out doors from choice, and I do not wish to disturb my
mother and sister, who retired some time ago."
"No, we'll stand," was the curt response. "Whitney, as I suppose it
is, are you accustomed to sit out here alone?"
"Not when I can have company."
"Were you alone before we came up?"
"When you were here earlier in the evening, as you saw for yourself, I
had my sister and a friend."
"Exactly; who was that friend?"
"Mont Sterry, the gentleman who is on a little tour through some
parts of Wyoming and Montana to try to help make you fellows behave
yourselves."
"Yes; wal, we're looking for him."
"Why do you come here?"
"Because he spends a good deal of his time here; he seems to be
interested in Miss Whitney."
"Well, if he is, that is no business of yours," retorted Fred, angered
by the reference to his sister.
"Perhaps not, but it would be well for you to keep a civil tongue in
your head, Fred Whitney; we're not in a pleasant mood to-night, for
we've had trouble."
"It matters not to me what trouble you've had; you have no right to
name any member of my family. They are in affliction; my father was
shot down by your gang yesterday, and, though we made several of you
fellows bite the dust, the whole of them weren't worth his little
finger."
"We'll let them matters drop; I told you we're looking for Mont
Sterry, and we're going to have him."
"And I ask you again, why do you come here after him? I don't deny
that he was with me, but he left fully two hours ago."
"We know that; he gave us the slip, but we believe he came back."
"And I ask what reason you have for such belief; why did he bid us
good-by and ride away? I know that he had not the slightest intention
of returning for several days," said Fred, sticking to the technical
truth.
"We don't care what his intention was, he did come back."
"How do you know that?"
"He was sitting in that chair alongside of you less than ten minutes
ago; you were smoking and talking, though you didn't speak loud enough
for us to catch your words."
"Where is the proof, Larch Cadmus, of what you say?"
Without noticing this penetration of his disguise, the rustler turned
and spoke to the nearest of his companions:
"Spark Holly, how was it?"
"I seen 'em both and heard 'em talking," was the prompt response of
the individual appealed to.
"Are your eyes better than the others'?" asked Fred.
"They don't have to be," replied Cadmus, speaking for him. "While we
stayed in front of the house, Spark stole round to the rear, where
none of your family seen him. He got to the corner and had a good look
at both of you."
"Does he know Sterry?" inquired Fred, purposely raising his voice,
that his friend, standing a few feet away within the house, should not
miss a word.
"He don't know him, but I do, and the description Spark gives fits the
man we're after to a T. We want him."
"But the notice you gave Sterry allowed him twenty-four hours' grace.
Why do you ask for him now?"
"Them was my sentiments, but when I joined the party under Inman, a
little while ago, he told me the boys had reconsidered that matter,
and decided that after what Sterry has done, and tried to do, I hadn't
any right to make the promise."
"That may be their decision, but it cannot affect yours; you are bound
by the pledge you made in writing to him."
Larch Cadmus, like his companions, was growing impatient. He said:
"I haven't come here to argue the matter with you; I've come after my
man, and am going to have him."
"And I repeat what I said: he left more than two hours ago, and you
have no business to come here."
"Do you mean to tell me he isn't in the house?" demanded Cadmus, with
rising temper.
"I refuse to answer, but I do say that neither you nor any of your
gang shall enter my home, where are my mother and sister, their hearts
stricken by your murderous doings of yesterday, except over my dead
body."
"We don't like to disturb the ladies," said Cadmus, "but we mean
business; we have promised the boys to bring back that fellow; but
I'll make a proposition."
"What is it?"
"If you will say that Mont Sterry is not in there, we'll go away
without disturbing any one; we'll take your word."
"I recognize no right of yours to question me," was the scornful reply
of Fred Whitney.
"Boys," said Cadmus, turning again to his companions, "that's only
another way of owning up that the coward is hiding here, afraid to
meet us; he's our game."