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  CHAPTER XI

  THE BEDLOE BOYS

  All thoughts of denouncing Buck Thornton before these people fled beforethe girl had followed the rancher's wife into the cabin. They spoke ofhim only in tones warm with friendship and with something more than merefriendship, an admiration that was tinged with respect. They had knownhim since first he had come into this country, and although that hadbeen only a little more than a year ago, they had grown to know him asmen and women in these far-out places come to know each other, swiftly,intimately.

  He was a favourite topic of conversation and they talked of himnaturally, readily, and Mrs. Smith, fluently. She recounted, notguessing how eagerly the girl was listening to every word, many anepisode which in the aggregate had given him the reputation he borethroughout these wild miles of cattle land, the reputation of a man whowas hard, hard as rock "on the outside," as she put it, hard inside,too, when they drove him to it, but naturally as soft-hearted as a baby.She wished _she_ had a boy like him! Why, when she and John hit hardluck, last year, what with the cattle getting diseased first and her andJohn getting laid up next, flat of their backs with the grip, that manwas an angel in britches and spurs if there ever was an angel inanything! He'd nursed them and cooked for them, and lifted her out ofher bed while he made it up himself, just as smooth and nice as youcould have done, Miss. And he rode clean into town for a doctor, andbrought him out and a lot of store stuff that was nice for sick folks toeat. And he'd paid the doctor, too, and laughed and said he'd come someday and borry the money back when he got busted playing poker!

  "And then, all of a sudden, when you'd have thought he was soft that wayclean through," she went on, her eyes blazing now at the memory of it,"them Bedloe boys come over lookin' for trouble. An' Buck sure gave itto them!"

  "Tell me about it," the girl said quickly. "Who are the Bedloe boys?What did they do?"

  "The Bedloe boys," Mrs. Smith ran on, eager in the recounting, "belongover to the Corners. Or the Corners belongs to them, I don't know whichyou'd say. Never heard of them boys? Well, most folks has. There used tobe lots like the Bedloe boys when I was a girl, Miss, but thank graciousthey're getting thinned out powerful fast. First an' last an' all thetime they're rowdies an' gunfighters an' bad men. There's more of theirkind in Hill's Corners, but these are the worst of the outfit. They keepclose in to the Corners, seeing it's right on the state line, where theycan dodge from one state to another when it comes handy. Which is rightoften.

  "There's three of 'em. Charley an' Ed an' the youngest one everybodycalls the Kid. That's three an' I guess there's a good many more wouldbe glad of the chance to shoot Buck up. I guess the Bedloes heard thattime that John was sick. Anyway, they come over, all three of 'em,hunting trouble. Buck was out in the barn, feeding the horses, an' theydidn't know he was on the ranch. The Kid, he's the youngest of the messan' the worst an' the han'somest, with them little yeller curls, an' hisdaredevil blue eyes, come on ahead, riding his horse right up to thedoor, yelling like a drunk Injun an' cussing so it made a woman wonderhow any woman could ever have a son like him. He tried to ride his horseright in the door, an' when it got scared of me an' John lyin' in bed,an' rared up, the Kid hit it over the head with the gun in his hand, an'slipped out'n the saddle, laughin' at it stagger.

  "But he come on in an' Charley come in, too. Ed Bedloe was out in thefar corral, gettin' ready to throw the gate open an' turn out the cowsan' stampede 'em off'n the ranch. What for?" She lifted her bonyshoulders. "Oh, nothin'. They'd jus' had trouble with my John about sixmonths before, an' was taking a good chance to smash up things ingeneral about the ranch. They swore they was going to burn the cabin an'the barn an' scatter the stock an' do anything else they could put theirhands to. An' while they was in here, cussing an' abusing my John, whocouldn't even get up an' grab his shotgun in the corner, an' insultingme all they could lay their dirty tongues to, there's a step at thedoor right behind 'em, light as a cat, an' here's Buck come in from thebarn.

  "I wish you'd seen that man's eyes! Then you'd know what I mean when Isay he gets hard, hard an' bitter sometimes. An' his voice--it was solow an' soft you might 'a' thought he was putting a baby to sleep withit! There was two of them boys, big an' ugly-mean, an' they both hadguns on, in sight. There was jus' one of Buck Thornton, an' I didn'tknow yet he ever toted a gun. He uses his hands, mostly, I reckon, Buckdoes. He didn't say much. He just got them two hands of his on CharleyBedloe's neck, an' I thought he was goin' to break it sure. An' Charleygot flung clean out in the yard before the Kid had finished going forhis gun! You wouldn't believe a man could be that quick.

  "Quick? It wasn't nothin' to his next play. I tell you the Kid's handwas on the way to his gun an' Buck didn't have a gun _on_ him, you'dhave said. An' then he _did_ have a gun, an' John an' me didn't even seewhere he got it, an' he didn't seem to be in a hurry, an' he'd shotbefore the Kid could more'n pull his gun up!"

  "He killed him?"

  "He could have killed him just as easy as a man rolls a cigareet! Therewasn't six feet between 'em. Only men like Buck Thornton don't kill menunless they got to, I guess. But he shot the Kid in the arm, takin' themchances as cool as an icicle; an' when the Kid dropped his gun an' thengrabbed at it with his other hand, Buck shot him in the left arm thesame way. An' then, using his hands, he threw _him_ out. An' I don'tbelieve Charley Bedloe more'n got on his hands an' knees outside! An'then somehow Buck has a gun in each hand, and has stepped outside, too.And I reckon the Bedloe boys saw the same thing in his eyes me an' Johnsaw there when he come back in. Anyway, they got on their horses an' weain't seen hide nor hair of 'em since."

  Miss Waverly sat very still, leaning forward a little, her eyes big andbright upon the eyes of this other woman. The man, despite her calmerjudgment, appealed to her imagination....

  "You'd think," Mrs. Smith went on, "that that man would be tired enoughfor one day, wouldn't you? Ridin' all day, walking seven mile totingthat big saddle on his back; an' now he goes an' starts out to ride theLord knows how far. What do you suppose a man like him is made out'n?"

  Smith answered her out of the corner of his mouth from which a slow curlof smoke was mounting:

  "Sand, mostly."

  * * * * *

  No, the girl could not say to these people that which she had to say ofBuck Thornton. She switched the conversation abruptly, asking them totell her of Hill's Corners.

  She knew something of the place already. Mr. Templeton had told her agreat deal when insistently urging her not to do the thing she haddetermined to do and she had thought that he exaggerated merely in orderto turn her aside from her purpose. She had even heard far-reachingrumours of the border town in Crystal City, where her own home had beenfor the five years since the deaths of her parents. These rumours, too,she had supposed inflated as rumours will be when they are bad and havetravelled far. Now it was a little anxiously that she asked for furtherinformation, and not altogether because she sought some new topic.

  "She's Henry Pollard's niece, Mary," Smith said rather hurriedly. Thegirl glanced at him sharply. There was something in his tone which toldher that he was warning his wife, cautioning her to speak guardedly ofPollard or not at all.

  When, an hour later, she went to bed, she lay long sleepless, wondering,nervously dreading the morrow. For these people who should know gaveHill's Corners the same name that Mr. Templeton had given it, the samename it bore as far as Crystal City and beyond. It was one of those farremoved towns which are the last stand of the lawless, the ultimatebreastwork before the final ditch into which in his hour the gunfighterhas finally gone down. Desperate characters, men wanted in two statesand perhaps in many more, flocked here where they found the one chanceto live out their riotous lives riotously. Here they could "straddle"the line, and when wanted upon one side slip to the other. Andhereabouts, for very many miles in all directions, the big cattle men,the small ranchers, the "little fellows," all slept "with their eyesopen and their gunlocks oiled."

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p; But, she tried to tell herself, Henry Pollard had sent for her, he washer own mother's brother, he would not have had her come here if it werenot safe. He had written clearly enough, had told her in his letter thathe could not leave the Corners, that he must have the money, that therewere hold-up men in the country who would not hesitate to rob the stageif they learned that he had five thousand dollars in it, that she couldbring the bills which Templeton would have ready for her and that therewould be no suspicion, no danger for her. And she would believe heruncle, would believe that these people had had trouble with the Bedloesand perhaps others in the town, and that they warped the truth in thetelling. For was any more faith to be put in the word of the Smiths thanin that of Buck Thornton himself? And did she not know him for what hewas, a man who was not above assaulting a defenceless girl, not aboverobbery?

  Wearied out, she went to sleep, her last waking thoughts trailing offthrough the night after a man who could laugh like a boy, whose eyescould grow very gentle or very, very hard and inexorable.

  In the morning John Smith's first words to her drove again a hot, angryflush into her face. For he told her that Thornton, before he would rideaway last night, had made sure that Smith would accompany her, showingher the way and "taking care of her." She bit her lip and turned away.She was grateful that soon breakfast was eaten, the horses saddled andonce more she was riding out toward the south-east. Smith rode at herelbow.

  All morning they rode slowly, over rough trails in the mountains where ahorse found scant foothold, where they wound down into deep, closewalled canyons where the sunlight was dim at noon, where the pines stoodtall and straight in thick ranks untouched by an ax. They came out intolittle valleys, past a half dozen ranch houses, saw many herds of cattleand horses, crossed Indian Gully, topped another steep ridge and at lastlooked down upon the Poison Hole ranch.

  The ranch lay off to the east as they looked down upon it, a great sweepof rolling hills sprinkled with big oaks looking like shrubs from theirvantage point, cut in two by the Big Little River, along the banks ofwhich and out in the meadow lands many herds of cattle ranged free.Rising in his stirrup Smith pointed out to her the spot near the centreof the big range where Buck Thornton's "range house" was, a dozen milesaway over the rolling country. And then he swung about and pointed tothe south, saying shortly:

  "Yonder's the country you're lookin' for. We strike due south here alongthe edge of the Poison Hole ranch. When we get to that next string oflulls you can see the hills of three states, all at once and the sametime. And you can see the town you're headed for; it sets on top a sortof hill. Down yonder," and he swung his long arm off to the south-west,"is the Bar X outfit; that's as far as I'm going. But, if you wantcompany, one of the boys will sure be glad to ride on with you. TheCorners is only about a dozen mile from there on."