Len Ayres went across the street to the Oasis Saloon from where he
watched Amos Baggs take Nan to the hotel. When the lawyer went back to
his office, Len crossed the street and sauntered up there.
He found Baggs at his desk, filling his pipe, but the former prosecuting
attorney seemed to lose interest in his pipe when he looked up and saw
Len.
Len eyed him close for several moments.
“Thought I’d drop in and renew old acquaintance, Amos,” he said slowly.
“You ain’t scared of me, are yuh?”
Amos cleared his throat dryly and shifted his feet.
“I don’t know why I should be afraid of you, Ayres.”
“I didn’t know. After the things you said about me at that trial----”
“Oh, that’s part of my job--was part of it, I mean.”
“You didn’t mean it, Amos?”
“Well--no, I didn’t mean much of it. You see----”
“You meant part of it, didn’t yuh, Amos?--the dirty and mean parts. But
we’ll let that go. I’ve paid the price. I remember yuh spoke about the
debt I owed to society. Well, I paid it, and I hope the society you
spoke about is satisfied.”
“Oh, everything is all right now, Ayres.”
“Well, that’s fine, Amos. You must feel better. I remember yuh kinda
talked as though you was part of that society. You almost cried, if I
remember right. You said I was a menace. I don’t think you lost any
money in that robbery; so you must have been sincere. But that’s all
past and done; so we might as well be friends, Amos. I was just
wonderin’ who the young lady is.”
Amos was visibly relieved. He had always dreaded the day that Len Ayres
might come back to Lobo Wells, but it was turning out much better than
he had expected.
“That young lady is named Singer,” he told Len. “Madge Singer. I reckon
she was the only close relative Harmony Singer had. Anyway, he made out
his will and left her everything he owned, which included the Box S
ranch and everything on it, and any money he might have in the bank.”
Len rubbed his nose vigorously and stared at Baggs, who continued:
“She was his niece. Brother’s girl. He knew where she was in San
Francisco; so we got in touch with her. He made out this will quite a
while ago, and I kept it here in my safe. Seems like a nice girl,
doesn’t she?”
“Yea-a-a-ah, she does,” drawled Len slowly. “So she was a niece of
Harmony Singer, eh? And she’s over here to take charge of the property.
Goin’ to run the Box S, Amos?”
“She hasn’t mentioned her plans yet. It’s a little too soon for her to
know what she’s going to do. I’ll take her out there to-morrow, and I
think she will take charge.”
“Did she ever live on a cow ranch?”
“I don’t believe it. Looks like a sensible girl.”
“Yeah, she does. Well, well! Madge Singer. Funny the old man didn’t
never say anythin’ about her to me.”
“I guess he didn’t know much about her before you left. I never heard
him mention her until about a year ago. Seems that her father died and
her mother married again, or something like that. I think he wrote to
Harmony before he died and told him about the girl.”
“Uh-huh. Well, it’ll seem funny to have a woman boss, Amos.”
“A woman boss? You ain’t goin’ to stay out there, are you, Ayres?”
“Probably. She’ll need more help than she’s got out there.”
“But--but she can hire plenty----”
“I don’t cost any more than the rest of ’em, Amos.”
“I know that, but--well, that will be up to her, of course.”
“And after you tell her what you know about me, she’ll want somebody
else, eh?”
“I didn’t say that, Ayres.”
“No, but you meant it. Let me tell you something, pardner: If that young
lady tells me that she don’t want me on that ranch, I’ll know who
advised her. For five years I’ve wanted a chance to whittle off your
damn ears, Amos Baggs. A while ago we agreed to be friends, didn’t we?
Well, you play the game on the square or there’ll be whittlin’ done.”
“You can’t threaten me, Ayres.”
“No, but I can make you a promise.”
Amos Baggs turned away, rubbing his palms on the arms of his chair.
“I don’t see why you ever came back here,” he said pettishly. “You’d be
better off a long ways from here.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know, Amos. But there’s one thing you
do know--you value your ears.”
Amos swung around in his chair, his weak eyes snapping.
“Let me tell you something, Ayres. Everybody knows you came back here to
dig up that money you stole, and you might care to know that the
officers are watching every move you make. And just remember, if they
catch you with that money you took from the Wells Fargo--you’ll pay for
that mighty steep.”
Len smiled thinly. It amused him to see Amos Baggs mad.
“Sheriff Ben Dillon and Breezy Hill, eh? Amos, those two boys are fine
fellers, but they have trouble every mornin’ findin’ their own hats. If
they do catch me, I’ll split with you and save my skin. Is that a
bargain?”
“You get to hell out of my office!”
Len turned and walked out, leaving Baggs to fume over his pipe. Finally
the lawyer got to his feet, flung the pipe on the desk and walked down
to the bank. Charley Prentice looked up from his work as Baggs leaned
against the bank railing.
Prentice was a man about forty years of age, sallow, nervous. He dressed
well, as befitted his position.
“You’ve seen Len Ayres?” asked Baggs softly, although only a bookkeeper
was in the bank with Prentice.
Prentice glanced toward the door, shaking his head.
“I knew he was back, Amos. Is he bitter? You know what I mean.”
“Bitter?” Amos smiled crookedly. “I suppose he is. Len never was noted
for having a charitable disposition, Charley.”
“Say anything about me?”
“Not to me.”
Prentice twisted a pencil nervously between his fingers.
“The kid, Larry, knows he came back, Amos. Some of the kids told him,
and he asked me about it. They made fun of him about his dad coming back
from prison, but the kid didn’t understand. We never told him about
Len.”
“That don’t affect you. Forget that part of it. Don’t let him bluff you,
Charley. He tried to bluff me, but I showed him I couldn’t be bluffed.
You’re not afraid of him, are you?”
“I don’t know,” replied Prentice.
“Well, _I’m_ not.”
“_You_ never married his wife.”
“No, I didn’t do that.”
Some people came in the bank and Amos went back to his office, where he
filled his pipe again, after which he strolled down to the sheriff’s
office.
Ben Dillon, the sheriff, was in the office, but his greeting was none
too pleasant. Ben had been elected to office fresh from a cow-ranch
farther down the valley, and he hated the clerical end of his job.
Ben was fat, and ordinarily good-natured, but he disliked Amos Baggs,
because Amos acted superior, because of his vast knowledge of law, and
tried to instruct Ben in office duties.
“What’s on yore mind now?” asked Ben.
“Nothing much, sheriff. You know that Len Ayres is back, of course.”
“Shore do. What about him? Ain’t he got a right to be here?”
“Oh, I suppose he has. But you know what folks are saying.”
“About him comin’ back to dig up what he stole? Shore.”
Ben stretched his legs and began rolling a cigarette.
“Ain’t that the natural thing for him to do, Baggs?”
“Natural, perhaps.”
“Oh, I know what yuh mean. I’ve heard a lot about it. Fact of the matter
is, I’ve been notified to watch him. Uh-huh! Grab him if he shows up
with money. I’ve got a hell of a lot of time to trail Len Ayres around
these hills, watchin’ for him to dig up a pot of gold! Know what I told
’em? I sent a wire to Wells Fargo and told ’em to send their own
detectives in to watch him. I’m here for the suppression of crime--not
to hunt for hidden treasure.”
Ben laughed softly over his cigarette.
“Personally, I’m not interested, Mr. Baggs, attorney-at-law; and it’s
none of yore damn business, as far as I can see. You ain’t prosecutin’
attorney of this here county this season; so I don’t know why yo’re
hornin’ in. ’F I remember right, you said a lot of nasty things about
Len Ayres, when you sent him over the road, and since he came back, I’ve
been listenin’ for you to holler for help. I’ll tell him that yo’re
still interested in his future, and that you warned me to keep an eye on
him.”
“You don’t need to do that,” quickly. “I merely talked it over with you,
sheriff.”
“Crawfishin’, eh?” laughed Ben. “Do yuh know, I wouldn’t be a bit
surprised to see you lose yore ears, Baggs.”
“Who told you that?”
Ben removed his cigarette, stared for a moment at Baggs, and emitted a
deep chuckle of amusement.
“Some one else had the same idea?”
Baggs turned and walked out of the office, while Ben slapped himself on
the thigh and grinned widely.
“If that bat-eared owl thought he was goin’ to get sympathy from me, he
shore knows better now,” he told himself. “I ain’t playin’ no brotherly
love act with Len Ayres, and I’ll slap him in jail as quick as I would
any thief, but I wouldn’t give Baggs that much satisfaction. And that
jigger is worried about his ears, I’ll tell myself that much.”