Rickard followed McCartney along the bank, until they came to the space the men had cleared in the brush during the day. A half dozen large timbers had already been hauled to the site of the new corral, and the first four had been squared and fitted together to make the foundation. A little farther down a cut had been made in the steep clay banks that ordinarily rose some fifteen feet above the water in the river, to provide a passage-way for the horses going to water. From where they stood they could see the lantern in the hands of the corral foreman, as he went about taking a last look at the horses before retiring for the night. Besides the stamping of the horses' feet on the ground, there was not a sound except the running of the water in the stream below them, now swollen from the rains of the past couple of weeks.
McCartney sat down quietly on one of the timbers and beckoned Rickard to a place beside him.
"This looks like a bit of deep plottin'," McCartney said when Rickard was seated. "Well, forget the melodrama, Tom. It may look stagey, but I'm real serious—an' I'm goin' to be real careful, too."
MacMurray's door opened, letting out a flood of light, and McCartney ceased speaking till the door was closed.
"You were with me on one bit of business a few weeks ago, Tom," he continued. "I've got no kick comin'—you did all you could, an' we came pretty near to gettin' away with it at that. If the old man could 'a' been kept in town another day we'd 'a' swung the thing good. It wouldn't 'a' mattered a damn whether he ever came back."
"And we'd 'a' done it, too, if it hadn't been for just one thing—Anne handed the old man an ace—an' he bobbed up in camp about twenty-four hours too soon. And Anne's goin' to queer this deal right through unless we can keep her out. Now, listen to me. I know that girl—just between us, I knew her before I ever came here—an' I can tell you right now what she's goin' to do. No use goin' into cases—but I know. Anne's got to be put away—nothin' rough, y'understand——"
The sound of someone approaching from behind them caused McCartney to cease speaking and get up. The corral foreman was returning to MacMurray's.
"Come on," McCartney whispered quickly, and led the way, with Rickard following closely behind him. They did not exchange a word until they had gone some distance up the street in the direction of Cheney's. The presence of a number of men in the street made further conversation impossible, and they entered Cheney's place, where McCartney sought at once to make amends for his previous aloofness during the evening by inviting the men to come up and "have one on him."
In Hurley's office the three men, Keith McBain, King Howden and Hugh Hurley himself, sat late that night reviewing the events of the day and considering their possible bearing on the immediate future. For the benefit of Hugh Hurley, Keith McBain had gone to some length in tracing the course of events during the past few weeks.
"But what's his idea—what's his plan?" asked Hurley, after McBain had completed his account.