The Trail Horde Part 22

Lawler had ridden forth, prepared for bad weather. His face was now m.u.f.fled in a huge scarf that encircled his neck, and his eyes were s.h.i.+elded by the peak of the fur cap he wore. He dismounted, waved the men toward a dugout, and watched them as they dismounted and led their horses through a narrow door. When the men emerged Lawler led the big red horse in, leaving the men to stand in the white gale that enveloped them.

The wind was now roaring steadily, and with such force that no man could have faced it with uncovered face. It came over the vast emptiness of the northern s.p.a.ces with a fury that sent into one the consciousness that here was an element with which man could not cope.

Lawler emerged from the dugout and closed the door behind him. He barred it, turned and motioned the two men toward the cabin. He followed them as they opened the door and entered. Then, after closing the door and barring it, he lifted the peak of his cap, removed the scarf from his neck, glanced around the interior of the cabin and looked coldly at the men.

"Well," he said; "there's a heap of explaining to be done. You can begin now--one at a time!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE LINE CABIN

The two men had walked to a point near the big fireplace that occupied the greater part of one end of the cabin. The hatless one, big, a.s.sertive, belligerent, grinned defiantly, saying nothing in answer to Lawler's words.

The other man, slighter, and plainly apprehensive, glanced swiftly at his companion; then dropped his gaze to the floor.

"You skunks bunked here last night!" charged Lawler, sharply. "When I was here, yesterday, these bunks were made up. Look at them now! Talk fast. Were you here last night?"

The smaller man nodded.

"Why didn't you cut the fence last night?"

The smaller man grinned. "We wasn't aimin' to get caught."

"Expected there'd be line riders here, eh?"

The other did not answer. Lawler watched both men derisively.

"Then, when you saw no one was here, and that it was likely the norther would keep anyone from coming, you cut the fence. That's it, eh?"

The two men did not answer, regarding him sullenly.

Lawler smiled. This time there was a cold mirth in his smile that caused the two men to look quickly at each other. They paled and scowled at what they saw in Lawler's eyes.

Half a dozen bunks ranged the side walls of the cabin, four on one side, two on the other, arranged in tiers, upper and lower. A rough, square table stood near the center of the room, with a low bench on one side of it and several low chairs on the other. A big chuck-box stood in a corner near the fireplace, its top half open, revealing the supplies with which the receptacle was filled; some shelves on the other side of the fireplace were piled high with canned foods and bulging packages.

The bunks were filled with bedclothing; and an oil-lamp stood on a triangular shelf in a corner near the door. The walls were bare with the exception of some highly colored lithographs that, evidently, had been placed there by someone in whom the love of art still flourished.

It was cold in the cabin. A window in the north wall, with four small panes of gla.s.s in it, was slowly whitening with the frost that was stealing over it. In the corners of the mullions were fine snow drifts; and through a small crevice in the roof a white spray filtered, ballooning around the room. The temperature was rapidly falling.

During the silence which followed Lawler's words, and while the two fence cutters watched each other, and Lawler, all caught the voice of the storm, raging, furious, incessant.

With his free hand Lawler unb.u.t.toned his coat, tossed his cap into a bunk and ran a hand through his hair, shoving it back from his forehead.

His movements were deliberate. It was as though catching fence cutters was an everyday occurrence.

Yet something in his eyes--the thing the two men had seen--gave the lie to the atmosphere of deliberate ease that radiated from him. In his eyes was something that warned, that hinted of pa.s.sion.

As the men watched him, noting his muscular neck and shoulders; the slim waist of him, the set of his head--which had that hint of conscious strength, mental and physical, which marks the intelligent fighter--they shrank a little, glowering sullenly.

Lawler stood close to the door, the pistol dangling from his right hand.

He had hooked the thumb of the left hand into his cartridge belt, and his eyes were gleaming with feline humor.

"There's a heap to be told," he said. "I'm listening."

A silence followed his words. Both men moistened their lips; neither spoke.

"Get going!" commanded Lawler.

"We was headin' south," said the small man. "We cut the fence to git through."

Lawler's eyelids flickered slightly. The heavy pistol swung upward until the dark tube gaped somberly into the small man's eyes.

"I've got loads of time, but I don't feel like wasting it," said Lawler.

"You've got one minute to come clean. Keep your traps shut for that time and I bore you--both--and chuck you outside!"

His smile might have misled some men, but the small man had correctly valued Lawler.

"Gary Warden hired us to cut the fence."

The man's voice was a placative whine. His furtive eyes swept Lawler's face for signs of emotion.

There were no signs. Lawler's face might have been an expressionless mask. Not a muscle of his body moved. The offense was a monstrous one in the ethics of the country, and the fence cutter had a right to expect Lawler to exhibit pa.s.sion of some kind.

"Gary Warden, eh?" Lawler laughed quietly. "If you're lying----"

The man protested that he was telling the truth.

At this point the tall man sneered.

"h.e.l.l," he said; "quit your d.a.m.n blabbin'!"

"Yes," grinned Lawler, speaking to the small man. "You're quitting your talk. From now on your friend is going to do it. I'm asking questions a heap rapid, and the answers are going to jump right onto the tails of the questions. If they don't, I'm going to see how near I can come to boring a hole in the place where he has his brains cached."

The man glared malignantly at Lawler; but when the first question came it was answered instantly:

"How much did Warden pay you?"

"A hundred dollars."

"When were you to cut the fence?"

"When the norther struck."

"You saw us cache grub in the cabin?"

The man nodded.