The loot of the Lazy A
framework of the hoist parts of the old trades, and the huge timbers
were where the hoisting engine had stood.
But Miles Lane was not interested in the details of the old building.
An old lantern hung from a nail in the old hoist frame, and in its
faint illumination Lane could see the huge bulk of a man, his shadow
dancing grotesquely on the walls, as he skinned out the carcass of a
steer, which was also suspended from the hoist-frame.
Another whole beef, all dressed, hung near him. Lane could recognize
him now. It was Shif’less Hill. He was working swiftly, his skinning
knife flashing in the yellow light. Lane licked his lips and swallowed
heavily. He could see the lantern light flash on the cartridge-heads in
his belt, and against the wall near him stood a Winchester rifle. Lane
was unarmed, and he suddenly realized that it might not be healthy for
him, in case Shif’less suspected his presence. As though fascinated he
leaned against the building and watched the big cowboy strip off the
hide. He did not realize that daylight was creeping over the hills.
Shif’less finished skinning the animal and threw the hide down the
shaft. Lane grinned to himself. He had plenty of evidence to send
Shif’less Hill over the road for a long time--in case he needed to
use it.
He shoved away from the wall, realizing it was daylight, and crept away
in the direction of his horse. He did not want Shif’less Hill to find
him there.
* * * * *
The three Lazy A cowboys were a snoring trio when Cultus left the
bunkhouse and went to the stable, where he saddled his horse. It was
still early, and Cultus knew that Hop would not serve breakfast for
another hour, at least: so he decided to postpone his morning meal
until he reached Welcome Creek.
Cultus had never been to Welcome Creek, but he knew it was not over
fifteen miles east of the Lazy A, and that by traveling past where
Idaho Breen had found Lazy A hides in the prospect hole, he would
strike the wagon road, which led from Oreana City to Welcome Creek.
Cultus mounted and rode away from the south. Breen had given him a
tall roan gelding, which had plenty of speed, and the cool of the
early morning gave it plenty of condition to go ahead. The going was
fairly good, and Cultus let the roan pick its own speed.
Cultus had never seen the old Suicide Mine, but had heard the boys speak
about it. He rode around the side of a hill and came in view of the old
buildings, shortly after daylight. His horse made little noise in the
sandy soil, and he was within a hundred yards of the old shaft-house,
when he saw Miles Lane sneaking away from beside the building. Cultus’
horse was poorly masked by the brush; so Cultus quickly dismounted. He
recognized Lane immediately. Leading his horse to the post, he was able
to watch the lawyer, who walked down a dry wash, mounted his horse
behind a mesquite clump, and rode quietly away, going toward the Lazy A.
“That’s kinda queer,” observed Cultus. “Now just what was a lawyer doin’
there this time in the mornin’?”
Cultus watched Lane ride across a ridge and disappear, before moving on
down to the shaft-house. He dropped his reins and walked boldly to the
sagging old door, where he stepped inside and jerked to a standstill,
when he found himself looking the muzzle of a rifle in the hands of
Shif’less Hill.
It was still half dark in the old building. Shifting his eyes from the
menacing gun muzzle, Cultus could see the two beeves hanging. Neither
of the men spoke for several moments. The gun muzzle did not waver.
“Well, what about it?” asked Shif’less in a flat voice.
A smile chased across Cultus’ lips and he shook his head.
“I reckon that’s up to you, Shif’less.”
“Yeah? I’m wonderin’ how yuh guessed I’d be here.”
“I didn’t,” grinned Cultus.
“No? Kinda early in the mornin’, ain’t it?”
Cultus nodded. “Yeah. I was on my way to Welcome Creek.”
“And jist stopped to look, eh?”
“Well, no-o-o. Yuh see, I didn’t have no idea of stoppin’ here until I
seen our friend the Oreana City lawyer sneak away from outside there,
grab his horse and fog for the Lazy A.”
“Miles Lane?”
“That’s the feller.”
Cultus could see that the big cowboy was puzzled.
“What was Miles Lane doin’ here?” he demanded.
“Search me: but he was here. Put down the gun, Shif’less.”
“I suppose I might as well, Jones. I’m caught with the goods. If Lane is
headed for the Lazy A, he’ll prob’ly bring back the whole gang.”
Cultus walked past him and looked at the beef. “Threw the hides in the
old shaft?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Intendin’ to pack the meat to Welcome Creek tonight, eh?”
The big cowboy leaned against one of the uprights and nodded gloomily.
“I dunno how yuh guessed it; but yo’re right.”
“That wasn’t hard to guess. You killed those animals that wore all them
Lazy A hides----”
“That Breen found,” finished Shif’less. “Yeah, I did.”
“Welcome Creek was the only possible market, I figured. You couldn’t
sell all that beef. Breen had an idea that the Star X was the ones that
was killin’ off his stock; but the Star X don’t need to kill beef.”
“I’ve been killin’ oft Lazy A beef for over a year,” said Shif’less
slowly. “I couldn’t handle much at a time. It’s quite a job for one
man. Dad wouldn’t help me. He said I was a damn’ fool; and I sure
was. Now, what are yuh goin’ to do about it?”
“How deep is this shaft?”
“Two hundred feet. There’s big stopes, of course.”
“All right. How could the Lazy A find those hides? Is there any way to
get down there?”
“Not unless they go down on a rope.”
“Which they won’t do,” said Cultus. “Where’d they ever find a two
hundred foot rope? Lane thinks you don’t know he saw yuh; so we’ll
just heave them two beeves down the shaft, which will destroy all the
evidence. What little blood is scattered around won’t convict anybody.
C’mon, let’s get busy.”
“What’s yore game?” queried Shif’less.
“Helpin’ out a damn’ fool.”
The Lazy A was at breakfast when Miles Lane rode in. Breen left the
table and met him at the front door.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Breen. “You look pretty tough,
Miles.”
The lawyer took hold of Breen’s sleeve and drew him off the porch and
around the corner.
“Is Jones and the girl still here?” he asked.
“The girl is; Jones has gone to Welcome Creek. What’s the matter?”
Lane drew out the newspaper clipping and showed it to Breen.
“There’s what’s the matter, Idaho. Jack Keene is dead. Look at the
date-line on that paper. That girl’s name is Janice Lee, and she’s
dead.”
Idaho lifted his eyes from the paper, staring blankly at the lawyer.
“But what does it mean?” he whispered.
“What does it mean? It means that this girl is not Janice Lee; that
she is somebody else! This is not the girl Jack Keene sent us. We’ve
been double-crossed, Idaho!”
“You think----?”
“I know! What’s behind it--I don’t know. But this girl came on the
same train with Jones, the detective. Idaho, we’ve got to work fast.
They don’t know that I know this; so that helps.”
“Does anybody else know it, Miles?”
“Shif’less Hill. He gave me the clipping.”
“Then we’ve got to stop him from meetin’ Jones. I’ll bet Jones knows
that Keene is dead, and he figures we don’t. If he knows that we
know----”
“I’ve got the goods on Shif’less Hill!” exclaimed Lane, and then he
told of seeing Shif’less butchering cattle in the old shaft-house of
the Suicide mine.
“By God, we’ll get him!” snorted Breen. “Here’s what we’ll do. You beat
it for town and get the papers. I’ll send the boys over to investigate
this butcherin’ and we’ll make this female sign the paper while they’re
gone. Jones is headin’ for Welcome Creek, and when he comes back we’ll
settle with him.”
“And turn this girl loose to tell all she knows?”
“What you don’t know won’t hurt yuh. Get yore bronc and go after them
papers.”
Lane got his horse and rode back toward Oreana City, while Breen went
back to the dining-room. The cowboys were rolling their after-breakfast
cigarette when Breen called them outside.
“You fellers saddle up and go to the old Suicide mine,” he ordered.
“Lane just brought word that somebody has been doin’ a job of butcherin’
down there in the old shaft-house, and we’ve got a hunch that Shif’less
Hill is the one who has been doing it. If yuh find Hill around there,
yuh better watch him.”
“All right,” said Pie Ide shortly. “Supposin’ we go and _get_ him,
Idaho?”
“Yo’re runnin’ that end of it, Pie,” said Idaho grimly. “Better be
sure--first Shif’less will fight. He threw the hide in the old shaft,
and the devil himself couldn’t get down there to find ’em; we’ve got
to take a chance that he killed Lazy A cattle. You’ll find the beef
in the shaft-house.”
The cowboys hurried after their horses. Not that they disliked
Shif’less Hill, but that they desired action. They rode away with
their rifles, and Idaho went back to the house, where he found Mary
in the living-room.
“I’m goin’ to talk turkey to you,” he told her. “In an hour or so.
Miles Lane will be out here with the papers for you to sign--and you
better sign ’em without any argument, sabe?”
“What papers, Mr. Breen?” Mary was frightened at Breen’s tone.
“The bill of sale to the Lazy A,” growled Breen. “He’ll have it all made
out, and all you’ll have to do is to sign ’em. You turn the whole works
over to me.”
“I give you a bill of sale to the Lazy A ranch?”
“Yuh sure do, young lady. As soon as that’s done I’ll take you to Oreana
City and send yuh back where yuh came from.”
Breen walked over to a front window and glanced out. He was just a
little suspicious of Jones of Oklahoma. Suddenly he turned and glared
at Mary, who stood beside the center table, looking at him.
“You and yore detective friend thought yuh was damn’ smart, didn’t yuh?”
he said. “I happen to know that yo’re not the girl who was supposed to
come here. What do you think of that?”
He came toward her, grin on his hard face. “Yeah, I know all about it.
You think yo’re goin’ to get a thousand dollars for signin’ them papers.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! You poor little fool! Do you think you was foolin’
me?
“Set down! Scared, eh? You need to be. Do you think I’m goin’ to let
you beat me out of a million dollars? No, I’m not goin’ to put my
hands on yuh. Yore friend has gone to Welcome Creek, and he won’t be
back until later; so yuh don’t need to look toward the window. You
won’t be here when he comes back, and I’ll be here to welcome him. I
don’t like detectives.”
Mary sat down in a chair beside the table, wondering what to do. She
was afraid of Breen. From a window she had seen the cowboys ride away.
Hop was in the kitchen, washing dishes, but she knew she could expect
no help from him.
“Where are you going to send me?” she asked helplessly.
“Where?” Breen laughed shortly.
“_Quien sabe._ Understand Spanish? That’s Spanish for ‘who knows?’ Ha,
ha, ha, ha! Who knows where we’ll send you. Why, a poor little fool,
where can we send you where you can’t talk? And we can’t let you talk
about this.”
“If I promise not to----”
“Promise! What’s a promise of that worth? Set still! You act sensible
and sign those papers, and we’ll see about your promises--Mary Ault!”
Breen laughed harshly. “Mary Ault! And you tried to fool me.”
* * * * *
Cultus and Shif’less rode away from the old mine, heading toward the
Cross Arrow. Shif’less was still a little mystified as to why Cultus
had helped him destroy the evidence. They had left nothing for the
Lazy A to find as evidence, unless they were willing to search the
two hundred foot level of the crumbling old shaft.
“I reckon Mr. Lane didn’t lose any time in tellin’ Breen what he saw
back there,” observed Cultus.