CHAPTER IX
Half a mile from the Isbel ranch the cavalcade passed the log cabin of Evarts, father of the boy who had tended sheep with Bernardino.
It suited Gaston Isbel to halt here. No need to call! Evarts and his son appeared so quickly as to convince observers that they had been watching.
“Howdy, Jake!” said Isbel. “I’m wantin’ a word with y’u alone.”
“Shore, boss, git down an’ come in,” replied Evarts.
Isbel led him aside, and said something forcible that Jean divined from the very gesture which accompanied it. His father was telling Evarts that he was not to join in the Isbel-Jorth war. Evarts had worked for the Isbels a long time, and his faithfulness, along with something stronger and darker, showed in his rugged face as he stubbornly opposed Isbel. The old man raised his voice: “No, I tell you. An’ that settles it.”
They returned to the horses, and, before mounting, Isbel, as if he remembered something, directed his somber gaze on young Evarts.
“Son, did you bury Bernardino?”
“Dad an’ me went over yestiddy,” replied the lad. “I shore was glad the coyotes hadn’t been round.”