CHAPTER XXII: BARTER AND DOUBLE-CROSS
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Butch.”
Kendall Marsh had been drinking rather heavily, but now he shoved the bottle aside and looked quizzically at Butch Van Deen. There was only one lamp lighted in the Triangle X ranch-house. Hank North humped in an old rocker, while Mac Rawls sprawled on the old horsehair sofa, smoking a cigarette. Butch Van Deen leaned against the side of the fireplace, his thumbs hooked over his cartridge belt.
“Yuh don’t know what I’m talkin’ about, eh?” he queried. “You heard what I said, didn’t yuh?”
“You asked me if Cultus Collins is working for me. I don’t even know him; so that’s your answer. Now, what’s the idea of the question?”
“That’s kinda funny, Marsh. This afternoon Collins had a talk with Della in the saloon. I kinda kept cases in the way she acted, and I could see that she was sore about somethin’. They didn’t talk long before she left him; but she said somethin’ to him, and then went away for good, and I saw him kinda grin.
“A little later I got hold of Della and I asked her what Collins had to say. She wanted to know how long Collins had been workin’ for you, and I said she was crazy; that Collins never did work for you. And she jist the same as said I was crazy myself. She said that Collins knew too much not to be workin’ for you. And here’s another thing, Marsh; Collins told her that you would never pay her a cent, and warned her to pull out before somethin’ happened to her.”
Kendall Marsh stared at Butch for several moments. Then, “You’re not making up any of this, are you, Butch?”
“Makin’ it up? Hell, no! I’m tellin’ you what she told me. That’s why I came out here.”
Marsh poured out a drink for each man in the room, and they came to the table to get it.
“Well, here’s luck,” grunted Hank.
“Luck! We-e-ell, I guess I deserve some luck. I’ve had a lot of it lately, and it’s all bad. They’ve checkmated me in this damn’ valley; so I guess I’ll get out while the getting is good. I paid a fine price for that bank, and it’s a junk heap. I’ll have to pay off the depositors, and that leaves me holding the sack.
“The War Dance will pay dividends, I suppose, and this ranch isn’t a bad investment, but outside of that, I might as well have thrown my money in the ocean. Now, about this Collins person. What else do you know about him, Butch? Where is he from, and what’s he doing here?”
Butch rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He could still feel the weight of Cultus’s right fist, and he wondered if he would ever have a chance to even the score.
“He’s from down on the border,” replied Butch. “The bartender knew him in Yuma. He says he came here to find a stolen horse.”
Kendall Marsh laughed doubtingly.
“All I know is what I’ve heard,” said Butch defensively.
“So he knows too much, eh? How does he know anything? Who has talked?”
“None of the gang,” said Butch quickly. “We’re not the talkin’ kind. If anybody has talked, it’s yore own son. He drinks too much.”
“I don’t think he talked,” coldly. “He’s no fool.”
Butch shrugged his shoulders. He had ideas of his own regarding Alden Marsh.
“Do you think Collins was merely pumping Della?”
“I dunno. But I’ll bet he knows somethin’. Mebbe he was the one who slugged Terry over the head the night we had Blaze Nolan here. If he was, he might have heard somethin’. If he saw Della here, he’d know she was workin’ for you. If yuh ask me, I’d say it was a sucker trick to ever let her come back to Medicine Tree.”
“It wasn’t any sucker trick!” snapped Marsh hotly. “She came back of her own free will, damn her!”
“Tryin’ to nick yuh for some dinero, eh?” laughed Hank. “These wimmin shore do make life hard for yuh, Marsh.”
“Yeah, and she’ll nick yuh for it,” said Butch.
“I’ll be damned if she will!”
Butch shrugged his shoulders again. “Pick yore own spot to throw a fit,” he grinned. “I’ve warned yuh. Della is salty enough to stick for a good pot; and if she don’t git it—”
“What’ll she do?” quickly. “Go ahead—what she do?”
“Yuh couldn’t hardly expect her to tell me what she’d do, Marsh; but I’d pay her, if I was in yore shoes.”
“You would, eh?” Marsh poured himself a drink, downed it at one gulp and grimaced shudderingly. “And how much does she want?”
Butch grinned widely.
“Ten thousand dollars.”
“Don’t be a damn’ fool!”
“Go and ask her yourself, if yuh don’t believe it.”
“Does she think I’m crazy enough to—oh, that’s ridiculous! She didn’t tell you that.”
“Gospel truth. One thing yuh can say about her—she ain’t cheap.”
“Cheap! She’s crazy. I’ll change her tune pretty quick. You tell her to come out here to-morrow and I’ll talk business with her. If I ever get her out here, she’ll take what I give her. You might bring her out in the afternoon. And don’t let everybody in the town see you start, because it might be necessary for her to leave the valley from here.”
Butch hitched up his belt and rolled a cigarette.
“She’ll be disappointed at not gettin’ the ten thousand,” he said meaningly, and Kendall Marsh laughed.
“I guess you know what I mean, Butch. Let’s all have another big drink. And keep an eye on Alden, will you? I don’t think the kid would ever talk; but he’s drinking too much. I’ll leave it to you to handle him. What’s our alleged sheriff doing toward catching Blaze Nolan?”
Butch drank his liquor with a grin.
“He’s settin’ in his little office, waitin’ for Blaze to walk in and give himself up.”
“Don’t be too damn’ sure,” warned Hank. “Bad News and this Collins are pretty thick, and if Collins is hornin’ in on our business, we better watch both of ’em. Collins is no fool. When him and that Kelton girl rode in from the Padre Canyon the other night at the JK, and told what happened to them, I jist decided that Collins wasn’t anybody’s fool.”
“We’ll make him sick, if he fools with us,” said Marsh warmly.
“Oh, yea-a-ah!” sarcastically. “You’ve got to change yore luck, if yuh do. Leave it to Butch. He shortened Butch’s chin two inches with one punch. Where’s Alden and Terry to-night?”
“Medicine Tree,” growled Marsh. “Alden came out here drunk as a fool, and I bawled him out for it. I guess he got mad. Anyway, he and Terry pulled out for town, and they’re probably both drunk by this time.”
“I’ll send the kid home, if he’s sober enough to travel,” said Butch. “And to-morrow I’ll bring Della out.”
“Right!” snapped Marsh. “To-morrow afternoon.”
Butch Van Deen was not a brainy animal, but he did considerable thinking on the way back to Medicine Tree. He had lost a little of his faith in Kendall Marsh. Perhaps it was because Marsh had been drinking too much during the past few days. Marsh had always seemed so keen, deliberate, dominating; a man from a world which Butch Van Deen knew nothing about.
Butch had looked up to him, accepted his orders without question, admired his genius, his success in piling up money. But just now the South Texas gunman was wavering. Perhaps some of it was due to the laxity of Kendall Marsh with his son. Butch detested Alden, and in a way he blamed Kendall Marsh for the actions of the boy.
But this last interview with Kendall Marsh threw grave doubts into Butch Van Deen’s mind about the superiority of Kendall Marsh. Instead of the dominating personality, keen quick judgment, there was only a common drunken individual, arrogant instead of forceful, and foolishly boastful.
“Drinkin’ our necks into a rope,” Butch told himself. “Fill him with whisky, and he ain’t no better than anybody else, the damn’ fool! Drinkin’ himself under the table, when right now we need some sober brains in the outfit.”
Butch stabled his horse and went to the War Dance. He asked for Alden, but no one knew where he was. He went to the restaurant and ate his supper alone. Butch was as hard-boiled as any man who ever came in from the southwest borders, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was all wrong; something dangerous. Perhaps he still retained some primal instinct.
He went back to the saloon and retired to the little private room at the rear. There was little gambling going on, and but few people in the place. He was moodily smoking a cigarette, when Della came in. She had not made up for the evening, and looked sallow and drawn.
She was not pretty now; only pathetic and tired. She closed the door, but did not sit down.
“You saw Kendall Marsh?” she asked.
Butch studied her through half-closed eyes for several moments.
“Yeah, I seen him a while ago.”
“You told him?”
Butch grinned sourly. “Yeah, I told him. I told yuh yuh was crazy if yuh thought Collins worked for Marsh, and I was right; he don’t.”
“Then—” Della hesitated, staring at Butch, who shook his head.
“I told Marsh what yuh said, Dell.”
“About the money?”
“Yeah.”
“I suppose he thinks I’m crazy, eh?”
“Yuh didn’t expect him to give three cheers, didja?”
“What did he say about Collins?”
Butch grunted disgustedly.
“Jist between me and you, Marsh was drunk. He thinks he’s a tin god, Marsh does. I don’t think the fool realises his danger.”
“You think there’s something going wrong, Butch?”
“Don’t you?”
Della shrugged her shoulders wearily.
“I don’t know, and I’m getting so I don’t care. All I want is that money. When I get it, you watch, my dust. If anybody ever gets me into an Arizona desert again, they’ll have to use chloroform on me. I don’t care what happens to Kendall Marsh, after I get the money.”
Butch laughed shortly.
“Why the horse-laugh?” she asked quickly. “Does that mean he ain’t going to come through?”
“I never said he wasn’t, did I? He sent word to you to-night, Dell. He wants me to bring you to the ranch to-morrow afternoon; so that him and you can talk things over.”
Della studied this for a while. She was no fool.
“Out to the ranch, eh? And to talk things over. That’s great. But why talk it over? He knows my price.”
“I’m only tellin’ yuh what he said to tell yuh.”
“And what else did he say, which he didn’t ask you to tell me?”
Butch rolled and lighted a cigarette.
“I’m beginnin’ to think that Marsh is a fool,” he said slowly. “I used to think he was wise, but he’s over-played his hand. This whole deal was worked wrong, the way I look at it. No one man can whip a whole valley, unless he’s got his scheme worked out to where it can’t slip. Blaze Nolan was his ace-in-the-hole, and he turned out to be a deuce—for Marsh.
“That’s where Marsh slipped. And he’s been gettin’ tangled worse all the time. Somebody from this valley heard what Marsh told Nolan that night in Los Angeles. That’s what ruined the whole works. Since then, Marsh has stacked one mistake on top of another.”
“Are you gettin’ scared, Butch?” asked Della.
“Jist to-night. I’ve got a hunch that somethin’ is breakin’ bad. I don’t know where it is, sister; but my hunch tells me—”
“And I’m supposed to talk prices with him to-morrow, eh?” interrupted Della.
“That’s yore business, not mine.”
“Would you, if you were in my place?”
Butch inhaled deeply, his lips and eyes shut tightly, as the smoke drifted lazily from his nostrils. Then he opened his eyes slowly and looked at her steadily.
“If I was in yore place, I’d grab the first train out of town, and I’d keep goin’.”
“You would?” She studied Butch curiously. “And lose the money?”
“Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money,” he said slowly. “It would shore be great to have that much money—and be alive to enjoy it. But it wouldn’t do yuh a bit of good to have it comin’ to yuh, unless yuh was alive to enjoy it.”
Della knew what Butch meant. He was still loyal enough to Marsh to not make a definite statement, but she understood that he was warning her to keep away from the Triangle X ranch.
“Thank yuh, Butch,” she said simply. “I guess I’ll play your hunch.”
“There’s a train through here at midnight.”
“I’m not interested in trains,” she said, and left the room.
But she came back in a moment and closed the door behind her.
“You might tell Kendall Marsh that I’m through with him,” she said evenly. “And you might tell him that unless he hands me the money by two o’clock to-morrow afternoon, I’ll talk to somebody who might enjoy listening to what I know.”
Butch was out of his chair in a flash and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, crushing her back against the door.
“None of that!” he rasped. “You keep yore tongue to yourself, if you know what’s best for yore skin. If I thought you meant that, I’d wring yore neck right now. I don’t care how hard yuh nick Kendall Marsh, but don’tcha ever hint towards tellin’ what yuh know.”
Della was frightened. She knew that Butch Van Deen would kill her like he would a snake. She wet her dry lips and tried to smile in his twisted face.
“I—I just meant for you to tell Kendall Marsh that, Butch. I’m not serious. Don’t! You’re hurting me. I just wanted to scare him.”
Butch released her and stepped back.
“That kinda foolin’ will put yuh in a grave,” he said angrily. “I’m lookin’ out for my own skin. I’ll tell yuh that, sister; yuh don’t mean anythin’ to me.”
Della rubbed her aching arms. Butch had a grip like a vice and she was duly impressed.
“I just meant to scare Kendall Marsh.”
“All right—scare him. But don’t try to scare me.”
She left the room and he watched her cross the gambling hall. She entered the stairway, which led to the upstairs rooms, and he went to the bar.
In the meantime, Kendall Marsh thought things over, and in spite of the fact that he had consumed much liquor, his mind was still clear, and he was worried over the demands of the dance-hall girl.
He sent Chihuahua down to the bunkhouse for Mac Rawls, and told Mac to carry a message to Butch Van Deen.
“Tell him,” said Marsh, “to bring that girl out here to-night. This deal must be settled at once. You get a rig at the livery stable to bring her in, Mac.”
“And have somebody wonder what in hell I’m doin’ with a livery outfit, eh?” said Mac. “I’ll take the buckboard from here.”
“That’s right. And you see that he brings the girl. Tell her I’ve got the money, and that I’ve got to see her to-night, because I’m leaving in the morning.”
“Shore thing. Anythin’ else?”
“That’s plenty for one job.”
“This’ll be a cinch. But suppose she refused to come?”
“You tell Butch that I’ll be waiting up to see her.”
“Oh, all right.”