"No!" Obviously Barr was in command. "This goes my way."
Jeff stood, cold and shaken and knowing that, when he walked into the
cabin, he had walked into his own death. These must be the men about
whom Bill Ellis had warned him. But why should the Whitneys want to kill
him? Summoning all his past experience with Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd.,
which had taught him to try to appear outwardly cool in the hottest of
spots, Jeff did his best to seem not only calm but to take full command
of the situation.
"You're in my cabin," he said quietly.
"We knaow," Pete's eyes were venom-laden, "but you won't be needin' it
fer long."
The rest of the Whitneys said nothing. Jeff studied them and tried, by
reading their faces, to determine his next act.
Pete, so poisoned with hatred that it distorted his face, offered
nothing. Yancey, Dabb and Grant might be swayed if it were not for Barr.
Dominating the rest, and with them, at the same time he stood apart from
them. He was strong, Pete was weak--and for that very reason extremely
dangerous. The rest needed leadership. But while there was no lust in
Barr's eyes, neither was there any mercy. Jeff looked steadily at him
and kept his voice quiet.
"What's it about?"
"We liked ya, peddler." Barr's voice was very grave. "We liked ya an'
you traded fair with your goods. But there's no bit of room in these
hills for a policeman."
"Policeman!" Jeff exploded.
"We know," Barr seemed downcast, as though someone he trusted had
betrayed him. "The boy told us."
"Told you what?"
"All--an' 'twill serve ya naught to plead or ask pardon. If you're a
man, be one now."
Jeff's head whirled. Apparently, while he was in Ackerton, one or more
of the Whitneys had met Dan and the boy had spun some fantastic tale.
Jeff looked over his captors again and saw only unyielding
determination. He took a deep breath before he spoke.
"What did Dan tell you?"
"Enough," Barr grunted. "We had the truth from a babe's mouth."
"But--"
Dabb interrupted. "What made ye set your mind on the thought that a
Whitney kil't Blazer?"
"Didn't you?"
"We do not pry into killin's," Barr said. "You erred when you did."
Another piece fitted into the puzzle. Evidently Dan had told whoever it
was he had met that he and Jeff were out to avenge Johnny, and doubtless
he'd said that Jeff was an officer. Jeff pondered Dabb's question and
Barr's comment. It was possible, even probable, that only his killer
knew who had shot Johnny. Whoever was guilty would be a fool if he was
anything except close-mouthed about it.
"Leave us shoot him," Pete said nasally. "'Twill serve naught to do
elsewise."
"I said we'd wait," Barr growled.
Jeff breathed a little easier. The Whitneys intended to shoot him, but
not immediately and he wondered what they were waiting for and why.
Perhaps, as Barr had mentioned, they were too close to Smithville, and
in order to remain unseen, perhaps they would wait until night to take
him out. Maybe there were other reasons, but evidently he had a little
time. Jeff took a shot in the dark.
"I'll be missed in Ackerton."
"We know," Barr muttered. "The boy said it all."
Jeff moistened dry lips with his tongue. His chance shot had ricocheted;
whatever story Dan had concocted tied in with Jeff's trip to Ackerton.
He had to think his way out of this.
"People will be looking for me."
"They won't find you," Barr promised. "But could be they'll find us."