Around sundown, Lex Sangerly had returned from Geerusalem, following his talk with Quintell, and stopping long enough to leave the mail, motored away to the railroad construction camp, thirty miles distant, declaring he would not be back until late.
So, after he had washed the dishes, Lemuel began elaborate preparations, calculated to usher in becomingly his penmanship ordeal. He trimmed the tall kitchen-table lamp, polished its chimney carefully, got out a writing tablet, envelope, pen and ink, filled and lighted his pipe, rolled up his sleeves, and finally squared himself firmly before the table and started, after a long interval of painful reflection.
He had so much to tell Dot. He must notify her that Lex was making the ranch his headquarters; that Dick Lennox was there also, after nearly having been killed by the Quintell gang; that the Geerusalem branch of the Mohave & Southwestern was due to pass in front of the ranch-house door; that he had sold four tons of alfalfa; that her pet cow, Bess, was a proud mother, and that he had collected forty-three eggs that day.
After considerable feinting with the pen, he got under way. It was a warm, quiet night. The pen scratched and scratched hesitatingly. The patient old clock on the wall tick-ticked on and on tirelessly. A contented bullfrog out in the cool garden began a hoarse pæan, a dedication to the silence, and broke off midway in a measure. Lemuel finished his second page, then sat back and fired his pipe. With a critical eye, he read what he had written:
Geerusalem, Aug. 29.
My own deares dorter: I jest got yore welcom leter an was orful glad to heer you bin doin so fine in skule. Lex Sangerly he tol me all about you givin him the $20,000. I allus knowed you was as hones as the day is long, sweethart, an I tol him so an he sed you sure was the fines gal he ever seen. An I sed they didn make em no better, an I was proud of you. You orter herd us. You sure wood a-bin stuck on yoreself. But lissen, honey, an I want that you should bare in mind that bein yore ol dad Im allus lookin out for yore interes. An that is, you gotter fergit this Billy Gee galoot. I dont know why he give you that money xcept that Sangerly sez it was to help us out. But you gotter figger hes a outlaw, an aint no good nohow. So help me Moses, if I git another chanct at him I sure will drag him off to the calaboose.
Grinning proudly, Lemuel picked up his pen again, dipped it in the ink, and started on his third page. Then he stopped. The kitchen doorknob was squeaking. He stared at it and saw to his dismay that it was moving. Some hand was trying it. His heart quickened suddenly. He remembered that he had not turned the key!
It was some distance to the door; but his rifle stood in the corner, just out of reach. He slid cautiously out of his chair to get the weapon. At that very moment, however, the door had opened and closed, and a man stood in the room, his six-shooter covering Lemuel.
“Pull down the shades, Huntington! Git a hustle on you!” the intruder commanded quietly, as he locked the door.
The rancher gazed at him, horror growing in his eyes. His visitor was Billy Gee! Arrived at last was the hour he had so long dreaded, though he had believed it indefinitely postponed; for he had been certain the outlaw would hesitate to make an overt move against him while Lennox and Sangerly were there. But his Nemesis had come, and now Lemuel vividly recalled the fellow’s dire threat, made on that eventful morning in Warburton’s room in Geerusalem. He grew faint with terror and, trembling violently, lost no time in obeying the other’s order.
“Now, sit down!” directed Billy Gee. He waited until Lemuel slumped weakly into his seat, then he drew up a chair to the opposite side of the table, holstered his gun and, his eyes never leaving the rancher’s face, got out the makings and flipped a cigarette together.