A Texas Ranger by William MacLeod Raine (read with me .TXT) 📖

“Any more than it takes a prophet to tell that you are one of them.”

“I play my own hand. I don’t lie down before him, or any other man. He’d better not get in my way, unless he’s sure he’s a better man than I am.”

“But he isn’t in your way,” Arlie insisted. “He has told a plain story. I believe every word of it.”

“I notice he didn’t tell any of his plain story until we proved it on him. He comes through with his story after he’s caught with the goods. Don’t you know that every criminal that is caught has a smooth explanation?”

“I haven’t any doubt Mr. Briscoe will have one when his turn comes,” the ranger remarked.

Jed wheeled on him. His eyes glittered menace. “You’ve said one word too much. I’ll give you forty-eight hours to get out of this valley.”

“How dare you, Jed— and in my house!” Arlie cried. “I won’t have it. I won’t have blood shed between you.”

“It’s up to him,” answered the cattleman, his jaw set like a vise. “Persuade him to git out, and there’ll be no blood shed.”

“You have no right to ask it of him. You ought not–-” She stopped, aware of the futility of urging a moral consideration upon the man, and fell back upon the practical. “He couldn’t travel that soon, even if he wanted to. He’s not strong enough. You know that.”

“All right. We’ll call it a week. If he’s still here a week from to-day, there will be trouble.”

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room. They heard his spurs trailing across the porch and jingling down the steps, after which they caught a momentary vision of him, dark and sinister, as his horse flashed past the window.

The ranger smiled, but rather seriously. “The fat’s in the fire now, sure enough, ma’am.”

She turned anxiously upon him. “Why did you tell him all that? Why did you let him go away, believing you were here as a spy to trap him and his friends?”

“I let him have the truth. Anyhow, I couldn’t have made good with a denial. He had the evidence. I can’t keep him from believing what he wants to.”

“He’ll tell all his friends. He’ll exaggerate the facts and stir up sentiment against you. He’ll say you came here as a detective, to get evidence against the Squaw Creek raiders.” “Then he’ll tell the truth!”

She took it in slowly, with a gathering horror. “The truth!” she repeated, almost under her breath. “You don’t mean–- You can’t mean–- Are you here as a spy upon my friends?”

“I didn’t know they were your friends when I took the job. If you’ll listen, I’ll explain.”

Words burst from her in gathering bitterness.

“What is there to explain, sir? The facts cry to heaven. I brought you into this valley, gave you the freedom of our home against my father’s first instinct. I introduced you to my friends, and no doubt they told you much you wanted to know. They are simple, honest folks, who don’t know a spy when they see one. And I— fool that I am— I vouched for you. More, I stood between you and the fate you deserved. And, lastly, in my blind conceit, I have told you the names of the men in the Squaw Creek trouble. If I had only known— and I had all the evidence, but I was so blind I would not see you were a snake in the grass.”

He put out a hand to stop her, and she drew back as if his touch were pollution. From the other side of the room, she looked across at him in bitter scorn.

“I shall make arrangements to have you taken out of the valley at once, sir.”

“You needn’t take the trouble, Miss Arlie. I’m not going out of the valley. If you’ll have me taken to Alec Howard’s shack, which is where you brought me from, I’ll be under obligations to you.”

“Whatever you are, I’m not going to have your blood on my hands. You’ve got to leave the valley.”

“I have to thank you for all your kindness to me. If you’d extend it a trifle further and listen to what I’ve got to say, I’d be grateful.”

“I don’t care to hear your excuses. Go quickly, sir, before you meet the end you deserve, and give up the poor men I have betrayed to you.” She spoke in a choked voice, as if she could scarce breathe.

“If you’d only listen before you–-”

“I’ve listened to you too long. I was so sure I knew more than my father, than my friends. I’ll listen no more.”

The Texan gave it up. “All right, ma’am. Just as you say. If you’ll order some kind of a rig for me, I’ll not trouble you longer. I’m sorry that it’s got to be this way. Maybe some time you’ll see it different.”

“Never,” she flashed passionately, and fled from the room.

He did not see her again before he left. Bobbie came to get him in a light road trap they had. The boy looked at him askance, as if he knew something was wrong. Presently they turned a corner and left the ranch shut from sight in a fold of the hills.

At the first division of the road Fraser came to a difference of opinion with Bobbie.

“Arlie said you was going to leave the valley. She told me I was to take you to Speed’s place.”

“She misunderstood. I am going to Alec Howard’s.”

“But that ain’t what she told me.”

Steve took the reins from him, and turned into the trail that led to Howard’s place. “You can explain to her, Bobbie, that you couldn’t make me see it that way.”

An hour later, he descended upon Howard— a big, rawboned ranchman, who had succumbed quickly to a deep friendship for this “Admirable Crichton” of the plains.

“Hello, Steve! Glad to death to see you. Hope you’ve come to stay, you old pie eater,” he cried joyously, at sight of the Texan.

Fraser got down. “Wait here a moment, Bobbie. I want to have a talk with Alec. I may go on with you.”

They went into the cabin, and Fraser sat down. He was still far from strong.

“What’s up, Steve?” the rancher asked.

“You asked me to stay, Alec. Before I say whether I will or not, I’ve got a story to tell you. After I’ve told it, you can ask me again if you want me to stop with you. If you don’t ask me, I’ll ride off with the boy.”

“All right. Fire ahead, old hoss. I’ll ask you fast enough.”

The Texan told his story from the beginning. Only one thing he omitted— that Arlie had told him the name of the Squaw Creek raiders.

“There are the facts, Alec. You’ve got them from beginning to end. It’s up to you. Do you want me here?”

“Before I answer that, I’ll have to put a question myse’f, Steve. Why do you want to stay? Why not leave the valley while you’re still able to?”

“Because Jed Briscoe put it up to me that I’d got to leave within a week. I’ll go when I’m good and ready.”

Alec nodded his appreciation of the point. “Sure. You don’t want to sneak out, with yore tail betwixt yore laigs. That brings up another question, Steve. What about the Squaw Creek sheep raiders? Just for argument, we’ll put it that some of them are my friends. You understand— just for argument. Are you still aiming to run them down?”

Fraser met his frank question frankly. “No, Alec, I’ve had to give up that notion long since— soon as I began to guess they were friends of Miss Arlie. I’m going back to tell Hilliard so. But I ain’t going to be run out by Briscoe.”

“Good enough. Put her there, son. This shack’s yore home till hell freezes over, Steve.”

“You haven’t any doubts about me, Alec. If you have, better say so now.”

“Doubts? I reckon not. Don’t I know a man when I see one? I’m plumb surprised at Arlie.” He strode to the door, and called to Bobbie: “Roll along home, son. Yore passenger is going to stay a spell with me.”

“Of course, I understand what this means, Alec. Jed and his crowd aren’t going to be any too well pleased when they learn you have taken me in. They may make you trouble,” the ranger said.

The big cow man laughed. “Oh, cut it out, Steve. Jed don’t have to O. K. my guest list. Not on yore life. I’m about ready for a ruction with that young man, anyway. He’s too blamed bossy. I ain’t wearing his brand. Fact is, I been having notions this valley has been suffering from too much Briscoe. Others are sharing that opinion with me. Ask Dick France. Ask Arlie, for that matter.”

“I’m afraid I’m off that young lady’s list of friends.”

“Sho! She’ll come round. She’s some hot-haided. It always was her way to get mad first, and find out why afterward. But don’t make any mistake about her, Steve. She’s the salt of the earth, Arlie Dillon is. She figured it out you wasn’t playing it quite on the square with her. Onct she’s milled it around a spell, she’ll see things different. I’ve knowed her since she was knee-high, and I tell you she’s a game little thoroughbred.”

The Texan looked at him a moment, then stared out of the window.

“We won’t quarrel about that any, Alec. I’ll indorse those sentiments, and then some, even if she did call me a snake in the grass.”