“So you trailed him out here—on the off chance that he might hurt Betty or Ruth. Is that it?” inquired the rancher.
“You see I can’t mind my own business,” the prisoner jeered. “You invited me forcibly to get off your land and stay off, but I had to come trespassing again.”
“No need to rub it in,” blurted Reed by way of apology. “I got off wrong foot first with you. Not all my fault, though. You acted mighty foolish yourself. Still, you’ve got a legitimate kick coming. I’ll admit that. Sorry—if that does any good.”
He did not offer to shake hands. It was his judgment that this youth with the somber eyes so ready to express bitter self-mockery did not want to have anything more to do with him.
The vagrant offered no comment. His white face did not soften or its rigidity relax. Clearly he would make no pact with the Diamond Bar K.
Betty asked a swift question, to bridge the silence left by his rejection of her father’s tentative acknowledgment of wrong. “How did you know when they were coming?”
“I knew they’d come after dark, and probably to-night.” He corrected himself at once. “I oughtn’t to say ‘they,’ for I knew York wouldn’t come. He hasn’t the nerve.”
“You’re dead right there,” the foreman said. “All we give him was a first-class chapping, an’ he howled like he was bein’ killed. That other guy, now, he’s one sure-enough bad actor, if you ask me, but he’s game.”
“So I lay in the brush near their camp,” the gay-cat explained. “York went down to the railroad yards. He’s likely riding the rods for ’Frisco by this time. After dark Cig started this way and I followed. When he left the track, I trailed behind. The moon wasn’t up, and I lost him. I knew he couldn’t be far away, so I headed for the ranch, keeping close to the creek. For a while I didn’t see or hear anything more of him. Just as I’d made up my mind to strike for the house, the fires flamed up. I heard two or three shots, then some one went by me on the run. Time for me to be going, I thought. Your Mr. Forbes was of another opinion. He showed up just then and invited me to stay.”
Reed’s cool, shrewd eyes had not lifted from the tramp while he was making the explanation. He was convinced that he had been told the truth. The man had come out to do a service for his children, which was equivalent to one for Clint himself. Again he felt the sting of self-reproach at having played a poor part in this drama that had been flung into the calmness of their quiet round of existence.