“Simple as two and two. She’s a cattle queen—they call her Cattle Kate Cathrew—and she runs her stock on the slopes of Mystery. She’s rich—lives in a wonderful house up under the edge of Rainbow Cliff, and rides a beautiful horse. Her saddle alone is worth my team and harness—my new harness that I had to buy to take the place of the one that somebody cut to pieces in the night. She wants our land—our great fine flats on Nameless that’d feed her cattle through. She’s always wanted it. She tried to scare my father off, and since he was found dead at the foot of Rainbow she’s tried to scare us off—Bud and Mammy and I. But we don’t scare,” she finished bitterly, “not worth a cent.”
Brand Fair leaned forward, and this time his eyes had lost their pleasant smile, and had narrowed to slits. The fingers that held his cigarette were tense.
“Tell me,” he said, “what does this woman look like? I’ve heard of her a little, but I’ve never been able—I’ve never seen her.”
“She’s handsome,” said Nance frankly, “not large, but pretty-made as you find them. She has black hair and black eyes and a mouth as red as a flower, and she is always frowning. She’s a good shot—so good that I’m not much scared when she sends a ball whining over my head as I plow my field.”
“Good God!” shot out Fair, “does she do that?”
Nance nodded.
“She’s done so twice. She’s my enemy, I tell you. And so are all her riders. Strange things have happened to us—bitter things. There was the rope in the trail that threw Bud down the gulch—he’s never walked straight since. There was the fire that took my last year’s hay—and there was the harness. It seems I can’t forgive that harness—it set us back in debt to McKane at the store. Bud—Bud—he’s out of it. There could be no thought of forgiveness in that. If I was a man—just an ordinary man——”
The girl leaned forward with a doubled fist striking the cañon’s floor.
“If I was a man and knew who stretched that rope—I’m deadly afraid I’d kill him.”
Fair nodded in understanding.