The cards were on the table now. Dan Shute was running things. What he would do, Barkow was not sure.
He realized suddenly, with no little trepidation, that after all his association with Shute he knew little of what went on behind the hard brutality of the rancher’s face. Yet he was not a man to lag or linger. What he did would be sudden, brutal, and thorough, but it would make a perfect shield under which he, Barkow, could operate and carry to fulfillment his own plans.
Dan Shute’s abrupt statement of his purpose in regard to Ann Rodney had jolted Barkow.
Somehow, he had taken Ann for granted.
He had always planned a marriage. That he wanted her land was true. Perhaps better than Shute he knew what oil might mean in the future, and Barkow was a farsighted man. But Ann Rodney was lovely and interesting. She would be a good wife for him.
There was one way he could defeat Dan Shute on that score to marry Ann at once.
True, it might precipitate a killing, but already Bruce Barkow was getting ideas on that score. He was suddenly less disturbed about Rafe Caradec than about Dan Shute. The rancher loomed large and formidable in his mind. He knew the brutality of the- man, had seen him kill, and knew with what coldness he regarded people and animals.
Bruce Barkow made up his mind. Come what may, he was going to marry Ann Rodney.
He could, he realized, marry her and get her clear away from here. His mind leaped ahead. Flight to the northwest to the gold camps would be foolhardy, and to the Utah country would be as bad. In either case, Shute might and probably’ would overtake him.
There remained another way out, and one that Shute probably would never suspect-he could strike for Fort Phil Kearnev not far distant and then, with or without a scouting party for escort, could head across country and reach the Yellowstone. Or he might even try the nearer Powder River.
A steamer had ascended the Yellowstone earlier that year, and there was every chance that another would come. If’ not, with a canoe or barge they could head downstream until they encountered such a boat and buy passage to St.
Louis.
Ann and full title to the lands would be in his hands then, and he could negotiate a sale or leasing of the land from a safe distance. The more he thought of this, the more he was positive it remained the only solution for him.
Let Gomer think what he would. Let Dan Shute believe him content with a minor role. He would go ahead with his plans, then strike suddenly and swiftly, and be well on his way before Shute realized what had happened.
Once he made the fort, lie would be in the clear.
Knowing the officers as well as he did, he was sure he could get an escort to the river.
He had never seen the Yellowstone, nor did he know much about either that river or the Powder River. But thev had been used by many men as a high road to the West, and he could use a river as an escape to the East. Carefully he considered the plan. There were preparations to be made. Every angle must be considered. At his ranch were horses enough.
He would borrow Baker’s buckboard to take Ann for a ride. Then, at his ranch, they would mount and be off. With luck they would be well on their way before anyone so much as guessed what had happened.
Stopping by the store, he bought ammunition from Baker. He glanced up to find the storekeeper’s eyes studying him, and he didn’t like the expression.
“Is Ann in?” he asked.
Baker nodded and jerked a thumb toward the curtain. Turning, Barkow walked behind the curtain and looked at Ann, who arose as he entered.
Quickly, he sensed a coolness that had not been there before. This was no time to talk of marriage. First things first.
He shrugged shamefacedly. was I suppose you’re thinkin’ pretty bad of me,” he suggested ruefully. was I know now I shouldn’t have listened to Dan Shute or to Gomer. Pod swore he had a case, and Shute claims Caradec is a crook and a rustler. If I had realized, I wouldn’t have had any hand in it.” “It was pretty bad,” Ann agreed as she sat down and began knitting. “What will happen now?” “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I wish I could spare you all this. Before it’s over, I’m afraid, there’ll be more killin’s and trouble. Dan Shute is plenty aroused up. He’ll kill Caradec. his She looked at him. “You think that will be easy?” Surprised, he nodded. “Yes. Dan’s a dangerous man, and a cruel and brutal one. He’s fast with a gun, too.” “I thought you were a friend to Dan Shute?” she asked, looking at him hard. “What’s changed you, Bruce?” He shrugged. “Oh, little things. He showed himself up today. He’s brutal, unfeelin’. He’ll stop at nothin’ to gain his ends.” “I think he will,” Ann said composedly. “I think he’ll stop at Rafe Caradec.” Barkow stared at her. “He seems to have impressed you. What makes you think that?” was I never really saw him until today, Bruce,” she admitted. “Whatever his motives, he is shrewd and capable. I think he is a much more dangerous man than Dan Shute. There’s something behind him, too. He has background. I could see it in his manner more than his words. I wish I knew more about him.” Nettled at her defense of the man, and her apparent respect for him, Bruce shrugged his shoulders.
“Don’t forget, he probably killed your father.” She looked up. “Did he, Bruce?” Her question struck fear from him. Veiling his eyes, he shrugged again. “You never know.” He got up.
“I’m worried about you, Ann. This country is going to be flamin’ within a few days or weeks. If it ain’t the fight here it’ll be the Indians. I wish I could get you out of it.” “But this is my home!” Ann protested. “It is all I have!” “Not quite all.” Her eyes fell before his gaze. “Ann, how would you like to go to St.
Louis?” She looked up, startled. “To St. Louis? But how-was “Not so loud!” He glanced apprehensively at the door. There was no telling who might be listening. “I don’t want anybody to know about it unless you decide, and nobody to know till after we’re gone. But Ann, we could go. I’ve always wanted to marry you, and there’s no time better than now.
She got up and walked to the window. St. Louis.
It was another world. She hadn’t seen a city in six years, and after all, they had been engaged for several months now.
“How would we get there?” she asked, turning to face him. “That’s a secret!” He laughed.
“Don’t tell anybody about it, but I’ve got a wonderful trip planned for you. I always wanted to do things for you, Ann. We.cd go away and be married within a few hours.” “Where?” “By the chaplain at the fort. One of the officers would stand up with me, and there are a couple of officers’ wives there, too.” “I don’t know, Bruce,” she said hesitantly. “I’ll have to think about it.” He smiled and kissed her lightly. “Then think fast, honey. I want to get you away from all this trouble, and quick.” When he got outside in the street, he paused, smiling with satisfaction. “I’ll show that Dan Shute a thing or two!” he told himself grimly.
“I’ll leave him standin’ here flat-footed, holdin’ the bag. I’ll have the girl and the ranch, and won’t be within miles of this place!” Abruptly, he turned toward the cabin where he lived. Dan Shute, who had been leaning against the door of the building next door, straightened thoughtfully and snapped his cigarette into the dust. He had seen the satisfied smile on Barkow’s face, and knew he had been inside for some time.
Dan Shute stood on the boardwalk, staring into the dust, his big hands on his hips above the heavy guns, his gray hat pulled low, a stubble of corn-white beard along his hard jaws.
“I think,” he said to himself, looking up “I’ll kill Bruce Barkow!” He added, “And I’m goin’ to like the doin’ of it!”
Gene Baker was sweeping his store and the stoop in front of it when he saw a tight little cavalcade of horsemen trot around the corner into the street. It was the morning after the fiasco of the trial, and he had been worried and irritated while wondering what the reaction would be from Barkow and Shute. Then word had come to him of the break between the two at Gomer’s office.
Dan Shute, riding a powerful gray, was in the vanguard of the bunch of horsemen. He rode up to the stoop of Baker’s store and reined in. Behind him were Red and Tom Blazer, Joe Gorman, Fritz Handl, Fats McCabe, and others of the hard bunch that trailed with Shute.