INTRIGUE COMES CLOSER
When Penny reached home just after dark, she noticed a peculiarly
deserted air about the ranch. Most of the horses belonging to the
cowboys were gone from the corral when she turned Las Vegas in. The
shack where Becky had lived was dark, and the big house nearly so. There
was one lamp burning in the living room, and the kitchen wing was
lighted. That was all. The usual bunkhouse sounds of laughter, or
murmuring voices against an occasional accordion or guitar background,
were not there. Penelope entered by the kitchen door. Gimlet rose to
greet her, with anxiety showing in every one of the enumerable lines on
his battered old face.
"Keee-ripes!" burst out Gimlet. "Where you been?"
Penny was somewhat taken aback by the old man's obvious agitation.
"What's the matter, Gimlet? Is anything wrong?"
"That's jest it, I dunno. It seems like all hell's due tuh bust loose
an' yet they ain't a thing I c'n put a finger on. They's things bilin'
up, I tell yuh. I was scared damn near tuh death somethin'd happened tuh
you."
"But why?"
"Yuh sure everything's all right with yuh? Yuh ain't met with no
trouble?"
"What kind of trouble? Where is everyone?"
"I dunno what kind, jest trouble. Trouble like bein' shot at, or like
havin' threats made at yuh."
Penny shook her head. "I rode quite a way," she said, "and didn't
realize it was so late. Where is Uncle Bryant?"
It was when Gimlet replied that Penny felt her first frustration. "He's
gone, an' God knows where to, or why."
"Gone," echoed the girl. "Didn't he say anything?"
"He come here tuh the kitchen, told me tuh pack some vittles in a sack,
an' stayed while I done it. He took the sack, tho'wed it intuh the
buckboard, which same had two strong hosses all hitched, then fetched
Mort outen the house with his neck still bandaged, an' the two druv
off."
Penny hadn't known Bryant to leave the Basin in years. Yet she knew
Gimlet must be telling the truth. "Didn't he say when he was coming
back?" she asked.
"Not a damn word."
Penny had counted on a heart-to-heart talk with her uncle. Now that the
talk was out of the question, at least for the time being, she felt a
hopelessness that made her aware of how much she had counted on that
talk.
"How long ago," she said, "did Uncle Bryant leave?"
"Jest a little while after the argyment."
"Argument? What argument?"
"Him an' that cowboy callin' himself Yuma had another set-to."
"Yuma?" In her confusion of emotions Penny could do little more than
echo what Gimlet said.
"I tell yuh, they's been things goin' on, but nothin' I c'n lay a finger
on. Bryant an' Yuma talked low fer a time, then both got tuh howlin'. I
c'd hear some o' what 'uz said. Yuma was callin' on Bryant tuh see to it
that Mort got what he deserved, an' got told tuh go tuh hell."
"That's what Uncle Bryant would tell him."
"Yuma said he'd done some thinkin' since the last row they had an' he
figgered that if Mort wasn't given what a killer sh'd git, it was
because Bryant didn't give a damn what went on in the Basin."
"Oh, if Yuma could only understand Uncle Bryant!" said Penny. "Uncle
Bryant can't be bulldozed into doing anything. One way to make certain
he doesn't turn Mort over to the law is to order him to do it."
"They had aplenty o' hot words," said Gimlet, shaking his head slowly.
"They was a heap o' cussin' on both sides. When I heard what Bryant told
about the shootin' of Becky, I was fit tuh be tied, I was so gol-darn
mad."
"What did he say?" asked Penny eagerly.
"Said that Mort told him he never had no intent o' shootin' Becky."
Penny's lips compressed.
"Mort claimed that he seen a snake, a rattler an' a big one, an' he was
shootin' at that same, but his shot went wild an' through the window tuh
git his wife."
"So," said Penny softly, "that's the story he's going to tell."
"He's told it an' Bryant's told it, an' I reckon it'll stand. Hain't no
way tuh prove otherwise."
"No," responded the girl, her confidence in Uncle Bryant severely
threatened, "there's no way to prove otherwise."
"I saved some chow fer yuh," Gimlet said in an incidental way, "if yuh
want it. I reckon yore hungry."
Penelope shook her head. "I'm not hungry, Gimlet."
"I dunno what's goin' tuh happen," the old man said sadly. "I do know
one thing though, an' that's jest this. Becky wasn't kilt by no
accident, an' if Bryant says she was he's as big a damn liar as Mort."
Penny looked at Gimlet. She laid one hand on his skinny forearm below
the rolled-back shirtsleeve. Softly she said, "Gimlet, have you any idea
why Rebecca was shot?"
Gimlet dropped the gaze of his one eye to the floor and shifted his
weight uneasily from one foot to the other.
"Tell me," said Penny. "I want to know."
Gimlet nodded slowly. "I know," he said. "That's what made me afeared
fer you." He stopped there, and Penny said:
"Go on."
Gimlet drew a deep breath as if, in telling the girl what he knew, he
were leaping into a bottomless pit filled with icy water.
"I--I'm the one that got her kilt."
Penny waited, knowing that when he enlarged on the amazing statement it
would be vastly modified.
"I couldn't o' helped it, though. I dunno where Becky learned that a
pack o' killers from all parts o' the state was bein' brought tuh jobs
here, so's they c'd hide while they stole hosses an' cattle from outside
the Basin. She knowed it though, an' sent me with a note intuh Captain
Blythe in Red Oak. I gave him the note an' left, like she tol' me tuh
do. I dunno how the crooks here learned about it, but they sure as hell
was ready when the Texas Rangers rid through the Gap. They wiped 'em out
aplenty."
"But there'll be other Rangers coming to see what happened to them,"
said Penny.
"An' alibis an' lies aplenty waitin' fer them same. By the time the next
Rangers git here, there won't be a damn thing fer 'em tuh see. The
stolen cattle'll have new brands an' the crooks that's hidin' here will
be hidin' where they cain't be found. No one'll know nothin' about
nothin'."
Penny nodded slowly, realizing the truth in what old Gimlet said.
"If it's knowed by the crooks that you know what's goin' on, they'll do
tuh you the same as they done tuh Becky. As fer me, I'm expectin' tuh
git kilt most any time."
"You said there wasn't anything you could put your finger on, Gimlet. It
seems to me you know just about all there is to know."
"Can't prove nothin' though; 'sides that, I dunno where Bryant stands."
"I wish I knew that," said Penny thoughtfully.
"One thing's sure. As long as he's here, there won't no harm come tuh
you. Let him git killed though, as I know damn well he's expectin', an'
God knows what'll happen. 'Nuther thing I dunno is who is bossin'
things!"
"Vince?"
Gimlet shook his head. "Too cussed fer any man tuh take orders from."
"Mort?"
Again the old man's head moved slowly from one side to the other. "I
don't think so. We c'n figger Jeb an' Wallie out as a matter o' course.
Maybe they know what's goin' on, maybe they don't. Jeb ain't the brains
of a jackass an' Wallie ain't hardly ever home."
"Has he returned from town?"
"Nope. He left tuh tomcat around some more an' maybe find a woman tuh
raise Becky's kids. He ain't come back yet."
"Where have the other men gone?"
"They moseyed out soon after the buryin'. I dunno where they went. Vince
an' some o' them are in the front room o' the house."
"Who is with Vince?"
"Sawtell an' Lombard an' the man that talked with Bryant t'other
night--Lonergan. They been chewin' the rag in there ever since Bryant
took Mort away."
Gimlet turned to the huge stove and shoved a pan back from the heat.
"Yuh sure yuh won't eat?" he asked.
Penny felt that food would choke her. She wondered if there were anyone
in the world to whom she might turn in confidence and trust.
The door swung open suddenly, and Yuma stood in the opening. The big
blond cowboy's face was grim. He glanced at Gimlet, then the girl.
"Saw yer hoss in the corral," he explained. "I got tuh ask yuh jest one
thing, Miss Penny."
Penny nodded without speaking. She noticed that Yuma wore two guns, both
tied low. His hat was well down on his forehead and he had a leather
jacket over his shirt. He seemed to be dressed for a considerable ride.
"Jest one thing," he repeated ponderously.
"Well, what is it?"
"I'm fixin' tuh pull stakes," the cowboy said. "Yuh don't know me very
well, an' yuh got no reason tuh trust me exceptin' that I tell yuh I'm
on the level. I know what I'm sayin' will sound crazy loco an' yuh won't
pay no attention tuh it, but I'm wantin' tuh take you intuh Red Oak an'
see yuh outen this Hell Basin. They's folks there that'd make yuh right
tuh home. You c'd teach school if yuh wanted tuh. Will you leave right
now?"
"Of course not!" retorted Penny.
Yuma nodded slowly. "That's what I figgered. I'll be there, though, if
ever yuh need me."
Penny could never know how Yuma had steeled himself to make the
extravagant suggestion. The cowboy knew there wasn't a one-in-a-thousand
chance that Penny would agree, and when he saw the scornful look, he had
no more to say, no argument to put forth. He had made his request and it
had been turned down. His simple and straightforward way of thinking
hadn't grasped the thing in the same way that Penny did. He knew the
girl was in a dangerous place and wanted to take her from it, make her
safe. She refused to go. That was all there was to it.
The door closed, and Penny was about to voice her indignation, but
Gimlet spoke first.
The old man said, more soberly than he'd spoken before, "Miss Penny, yuh
should o' gone."
"Why, the nerve of that crazy cowboy! I don't even know his name. He's
been here only a short time; he's fought twice with Uncle Bryant, and
told me what he thought of the only man in the world I ever cared for,
my uncle. And now he expects me to leave home and go off to Red Oak
teaching school! Leave here tonight! With him! It's the most ridiculous
outlandish nonsense I--"
Penny stopped for breath.
Gimlet said again, "Yuh should o' gone."
"I should, huh!" retorted Penny. "I'd have to be gagged and hog-tied to
go with that crazy wrangler, and even then I'd fight every inch of the
way." She turned abruptly and pushed through the door into the living
quarters of the house.
Gimlet blinked when the door slammed, almost in his face. He fingered
his mustache reflectively and _h'mmm'd_ through his knobby nose. "Gagged
an' hawg-tied, eh," he muttered. "Keeee-ripes, but mebbe that's a good
idee." He hurried across the kitchen in a busybody sort of stride and
followed Yuma into the darkness.
Penny hoped to get upstairs and to her bedroom without having to talk
any further. Her mental state was in the lowest depth of despondency
she'd ever known. It seemed that the more she learned the more futile it
became to look ahead to happiness in Bryant's Basin. Her nerves felt
drawn to a tension that threatened to snap them like catgut drawn too
tightly on a violin. It seemed as if nothing that could happen now made
a great deal of difference. She turned a corner of the hall and stopped.
At the foot of the stairs stood Vince Cavendish.
At the sight of his cousin, Vince's shoulders seemed to droop, and his
eyes assumed a woebegone expression that was something new. He advanced
to the girl and said, "God knows what's goin' tuh happen to us, Cousin."
Penny had never heard Vince speak in that sort of tone. She looked at
him suspiciously, wondering what was behind the beaten manner that was
like a plea for sympathy. She moved her hand behind her as Vince sought
to take it in his own.
"What's the matter with you?" she demanded. "You act like a sick calf."
"Double-crossed," Vince said hollowly. "Double-crossed by Uncle Bryant.
He's sold the lot of us out."
Penny recalled some of the things Gimlet had told her. "How?" she asked.
"I already signed," said Vince. "The men 're upstairs now, gettin' Jeb's
name on the paper, an' they'll get yours when they come down."
"My name to what paper?"
"One that Bryant had drawed up," went on Vince in a melancholy voice.
"We gotta sign away any claim we might have on the ranch as his heirs.
He wants tuh leave it all tuh someone else."
"Who?"
Vince shook his head. "Dunno."
"Why didn't Uncle Bryant tell us to sign the agreement, or whatever it
is?"
"Left it tuh some o' the men tuh handle. He's gone in tuh Red Oak with
Mort. Reckon they're waitin' there fer the boys tuh git the paper signed
an' bring it tuh them there."
"I'll not sign a thing until I talk to him," said Penny flatly, "and in
the meantime, I'm going to bed."
Vince shook his head slowly. "Yuh can't."
"Who's going to stop me?"
"Sawtell an' Lombard an' Lonergan will be done with Jeb in a few
minutes. They'll see that you sign somehow."
Penny turned to go upstairs, but Sawtell's stocky figure appeared at the
top of the flight. His voice was soft and smooth to match the bland
expression of his wide face.
"Miss Cavendish," he said as he started down the stairs, "I'm glad
you're back. We've something to talk about."
"You've nothing to talk about with me," the girl said to the descending
man. "Any business you have for Uncle Bryant can wait until he gets back
here."
Sawtell smiled. "I guess you don't understand. He won't be back here
until we take some documents to him with your name and the names of your
cousins signed to them." He halted at the bottom of the flight, and took
a folded paper, covered with close writing, from his pocket. "Shall we
go into the other room?" he said.
"You can do what you want, I'm going to bed," retorted the girl,
starting once more.
Sawtell gripped her arm.
"Let go of me!"
"I don't want to use any harsh methods, Miss Cavendish," Sawtell said
with his smile gone, and an impatient edge to his voice. "But I promise
you, you're going to sign the agreement so we can start for town as soon
as possible."
Penny jerked her arm free. She felt panicky, helpless, but dared not
show it. Her gun was still on the belt about her waist, but the
cartridges it had held were somewhere in the brush on Thunder Mountain.
She was determined to get to her room, bar the door, and stay there
until her uncle came home. No matter what Bryant did, she knew that he
would let nothing serious happen to her. It was incredible that he'd
left instructions, such as Vince had told her about, with men like
Sawtell and Lombard. She wondered about Lombard and Lonergan. Gimlet had
said they were here in the house. Upstairs? It was quite possible.
The girl looked toward the front door, then at Sawtell.
"There's no use putting us all to a lot of extra trouble," Sawtell told
her. "You'll only make it harder for yourself."
"He's right," put in Vince, in a resigned voice. "They ain't no use
puttin' off the signin' o' that paper. Might as well do it an' git it
done with."
Penny's jaw was firm. "I won't do anything until I talk to Uncle
Bryant."
Sawtell nodded slowly. "All right then, we'll have to bring Jeb down
here." He called curt orders up the stairs, and in a moment Jeb,
struggling between Lonergan and Lombard, was practically carried down
the stairs. His eyes were wide and staring, and his lean face white with
terror.
"Do what they want," he cried to the girl. "No matter what it is, you
sign it like what I done. If yuh don't they'll brand me with a poker."
"Take him to the fireplace," ordered Sawtell, "put some ropes around
him, then come back for Vince. This girl will do what Bryant says, or
she'll see slow murder, with a lot of pain."
"No, no," cried Vince, "not me!"
As if by magic a gun appeared in Sawtell's hand.
"_You_," he said, "as well as Jeb."
Penny watched the wide-eyed Jeb and the cringing, wincing Vince being
dragged, howling, to the fireplace, where Lombard and Lonergan tossed
ropes about them. The two were jerked off their feet and stretched on
the floor, and more ropes looped about their ankles made them helpless.
Sawtell, gun still in hand, watched the procedure, unmoved and
expressionless. Lonergan's black eyes reflected the leaping flames when
he faced Sawtell. His black mustache, so carefully brushed and tapered,
seemed to twitch with his eagerness to make the next move.
Sawtell nodded, and the former gambler grabbed the poker in lean fingers
and shoved it deep among the red-hot coals. Stark terror from their
souls showed in the eyes of the captured men. Vince drooled
supplications for mercy, begging Penny to sign Bryant's agreement and
save him from the torture of the heated iron. Jeb wailed conglomerate
quotations, misquoted, from the Scriptures.
Sawtell approached Penelope. "You have a few minutes to think it over,"
he said, "while the iron gets red-hot. Have you ever heard a man scream
with the pain of being branded"--he paused, lowered his voice, and added
"--in the eyes?"