appeared plain that all three partners had
taken flight with the girl in the buckboard. Sandy's pinto and Sam's
roan were in the corral. Jordan overlooked one thing, the counting of
saddles, though that would not have been an easy determination.
"Some one tipped this thing off," he said sternly to Buck. "Who was it?"
"Meanin' this visit's offishul?" asked Buck. "What's it fo', Sheriff?
Moonshine or hawss stealin'?" He spoke in a jesting note, his weathered
face impassive as the shell of a walnut, but Plimsoll scowled, noting
the turn of Buck's bland countenance in his direction for the first
time. It was whispered that the brands on Plimsoll's horse ranch were
not those usually known in the county, nor even in the counties
adjoining. There were rumors, smothered by Plimsoll's stand with the
authorities, of bands of horses, driven by strangers, arriving
wearied--and always by night--at his corrals.
"It don't matter--to you--what it's for," answered Jordan. "I'll
overhaul 'em an' bring 'em back. Crossin' the county line won't do 'em
any good with this warrant. Ef they try hide-out tactics or put up a
scrap, it'll be kidnappin' an' that's a penal offense."
Buck whistled.
"Thought you wasn't goin' to let me know," he said. "It's the gel."
"Who's been here to tip it off?" asked Jordan.
Buck looked at him serenely, took a plug of chewing from his hip pocket,
took his knife, opened it deliberately and slowly cut off a corner of
the tobacco.
"Search me," he drawled. "Me, I don't stay up to the house."
Jordan, temporarily discomfited but still confident of bringing back his
quarry, marked the trail of the buckboard in the alkali soil, noted the
hoof-prints of the diverging riders and nodded with the semi-smile and
half closed-eyes of conscious superiority. He had already elicited
apparently reluctant information from Pedro as to the four passengers in
the buckboard. Buck had been more reticent. To the sheriff Buck's
reticence betokened desire to cover the fugitives. He fancied that
Pedro's testimony was the result of Jordan's own cleverness in
cross-questioning. Joe resorted to "no sabes."
"You 'tendin' ranch?" Jordan asked Buck, at last.
"Yep. Till I git fresh orders."
"I'll bring you back those orders, also yore bosses, before sun-down."
Buck permitted himself his first grin.
"You'll have to go some," he said. "Goin' to bring 'em back in irons?
Figgerin' on abduction?"
Jordan gave no hint of ho
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