“No, I don’t know where Miss Singer went,” he said. “She left a note under my door sayin’ she was leavin’ for San Francisco and might not be back.”
He produced the note, written in the same hand and on the same kind of paper as the one she had left for Len.
“She didn’t tell me she might not be back,” said Len.
“Well, she told me. And, another thing, Ayres: I have power of attorney to run the Box S until she returns. Miss Singer signed the paper several days ago. If you want to see it⸺”
“Gave you power of attorney to run the Box S?”
“Exactly. And I’m going to run it, Ayres. You are through as foreman, and you can notify Taylor and Jones that they are also through.”
Len stared at him blankly.
“Kinda sudden, ain’t yuh?” he asked softly.
“Not at all. You and your men move out, and I’ll hire a new crew. It has been done before, so I’m not setting any precedent. I have explained to the sheriff just what I intend to do; so the less you say or do about it the better it will be for you, Ayres.”
Len was mad. He wanted to take that skinny neck between his two hands and squeeze real hard. But he was forced to admit that Baggs had the whip hand.