“Plenty. The reason’s Stella, savvy? I ain’t aiming to figger none in this, except as the rescue party. Y’ understand, the Shumway place controls all the water supply on my east section, and I got to have it; but I got to have Stella, too.”
“Oh, I savvy plenty,” and Murphy nodded again. “But s’pose anybody with money buys in the place and pays off the mortgage?”
“He won’t,” said Buck, his thin, high-boned features showing a slight grimace. “I’m havin’ it well understood that the place is mine. Nobody in these here parts is goin’ to start buckin’ my hand, y’ understand? There’s only one feller might try it; Sam Fisher, a guy who was a powerful friend of the Shumways in other times. But he’s clear down to the other end the State, and I’m havin’ him watched.”
Murphy had straightened up a trifle.
“You don’t mean young Fisher, the deputy sheriff o’ Pecos County—him that’s goin’ to be sheriff there next election? I’ll tell the world you’d better watch him. Buck! That gent is one hell ringer. Yes, sir, I’ve heard of him.”
Buck grinned and lifted his glass. “Don’t worry. He ain’t goin’ to butt into this here show, none whatever! That mortgage comes due the first of the month—two weeks. I figger to run her slow until then, watch Fisher so’s he can’t hear from the girl——”
“Don’t monkey with the mails, Buck!” Murphy frowned uneasily.
“I ain’t,” and the tall rancher chuckled. “I got plenty friends, y’ understand. Say, you take it easy here until I see about them hosses, and we’ll ride out. Mike, you ’tend to makin’ Murphy plumb comfortable, and I’ll see you in short order.”
Buck left the place.
Murphy leaned over the bar and engaged Galway Mike in low-toned conversation. Of this talk, a few scattered fragments might have reached the ear of the stranger in the corner, had not the latter been utterly relaxed in shameless slumber.