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  McKay, laughed. "Whose lawyer are you, Mr. Brockhurst, mine or Miss Maragon's?”

  Brockhurst said with dignity, "I'm merely trying to protect my client from possible unpleasantness. Ben Rainier is a large young man who's, inclined to be jealous, and you, sir, didn't scar your knuckles pushing a pen in a Baltimore office-" He turned to face the door as it opened. "Good afternoon, Miss Maragon. May we come in?"

  The young woman who stood in the doorway was of medium height and wore a blue wool skirt and a white shirt-waist. She had dark hair pulled back from her face in a plain and uncompromising manner, as befitted a schoolteacher. The face was mildly freckled, McKay noted, otherwise it was in no way remarkable. Brockhurst spoke again as she hesitated. "Mr. McKay has come all the way from Baltimore to talk business with he's the principal behind the Harper and Agnew offer."

  The girl said, "Oh, its about the ranch. Of course, Come in."

  She stepped hack to let them pass her, and closed the door behind them. The room into which they came was a small one with a low ceiling. It was a neat and pleasant room, but the blond young man who stood in the center of it, awaiting them Without pleasure, made it look like a child's playroom. He was one of the biggest men McKay had ever seen. half a head taller than the gray-haired Brockhurst, himself no pygmy. McKay decided that the younger man must weigh at least two hundred and fifty pounds.

  The blond giant had a boyish countenance for all his size and blue eyes, now a little hostile and somewhat embarrassed. The cause of his embarrassment was obvious. There was a fresh, rather clumsy, little bouquet of flowers on the table, and the man himself was dressed for courting in a suit that had clearly been bought some time ago, before he had quite attained his present dimensions

  "Ben this is Mr. McKay," Brockhurst said "Mr. McKay, Mr. Rainier. Ben has a ranch out on the Rio Puerco Mr. McKay. If you succeed in talking Miss Maragon into letting you buy the Lazy M, you'll be practically neighbors."

  Rainer laughed, holding out his hand. "Neighbors except for about thirty miles of Ladder range." he said. Pleased to meet you, Mr. McKay."

  McKay took the proffered hand, and found his fingers in a powerful grip. He offered no resistance to the pressure and kept his face impassive against the pain.

  "When I was making plans to come out here," he said, I was warned that Texans grew eight feet tall, but I didn't believe it." The big man blushed, it was an odd sight. He released McKay's hand. "My size is a curse, Mr. McKay," he said. "I can't buy Clothes to fit me, and it takes a plow-horse to carry me." "On the other hand," Brockhurst said, "Ben is the only man around here who doesn't have pack a gun to make people respect him. Who wants to tangle with someone who can kill a steer with his naked fist? Or a man?

  Rainier shook his head quickly. "Please, Mr. Brockhurst, don't remind me of it. I wish people would forget it. It was a terrible thing," he said to McKay. "I very seldom lose my temper, I can't afford to, but the man kept challenging me to fight and I'd had a drink or two and well, when he hit me the second time-, Well, I just struck a little harder than-"

  "Practically tore his head from his shoulders," Brockhurst said cheerfully. "That was before I came here, but people still talk about it. Caved the man's face in and broke his neck as if a mule had kicked him. The fellow wasn't liked and he'd been doing his best to pick a fight, so nobody blamed Ben-but I don't think anybody's bothered him since, eh, Ben?"

  Rainier's protest was interrupted as the girl came back into the room. "I had just asked Mr. Rainier to stay for a cup of tea," she said. "I hope you'll join us. it will be ready in a few minutes."

  The blond man stirred uncomfortably. "If you're going to talk business, Julie, maybe I should-"

  "But I want you to stay, Ben. I value your advice, even if I don't always take it." Julie Maragon smiled and sat down, gesturing to the three men to do likewise. When they had found chairs, she turned to McKay on her right. "So you're the man for whom Mr. Agnew was acting. He was very secretive about you."

  McKay said, "I had reasons for not wanting my name involved, Miss Maragon. Among other things, I was trying to dispose of some property left me by my father. If I'd let it become known. that I'd definitely decided to move west and needed the money to establish myself, I doubt that I could have got the price I wanted, even though I was dealing with my own family." He laughed. "Blood means nothing to my uncles if there's a dollar involved. Then I had some personal reasons for wanting the negotiations kept quiet, too. From your letter, I gather that you're not anxious for publicity either."

  "No. There are some people around here who wouldn't like it if they knew I was trying to sell to a stranger," the girl said. "But I hope you haven't burned all your bridges behind you. I may have let you in for a long journey for nothing. Please remember that l made no promise to sell you Big Muddy-"

  "Big Muddy?"

  She laughed. "My grandfather's brand. was Lazy M, but the ranch is in the valley of Big Muddy Creek, so we often rater to it simply as Big Muddy. it's much prettier than the it sounds. I still ride out there as often as I-" She checked herself abruptly. After a moment, she went on in a more businesslike, voice, "I'd better tell you the story of the place from the beginning, so you'll understand my position. My grandfather was the first man to run cattle this far north in Texas. He had a ranch here when the Comanches were still a serious menace-in fact, they caught my parents away from the house when I was a baby and killed them both. Gramps went after the savages with a bunch of men and came back with seven scalps. I still have the scalps in my trunk. They're horrible things, but Gramps set great Fore by them, and I'd feel that I was letting him down if I got rid of them. It's important that you realize the kind of man he was, as long as he was alive, there was no problem. Nobody in their right mind ever tangled with Gramps, even he was eighty years old. But when he died--" She paused and went on, "It was a fierce country when he came here. And even though the Indians have been pacified, it's nor really much better today. The man who takes over my grandfather's ranch is buying a great deal of trouble. I---I Want to make sure that he understands what he has to face, and that he handles it the right way. That's why I want to meet him and talk to him before I commit myself to selling the place."

  There was a moment of silence. Then Brockhurst said in dry voice, "You see, young man, you're on trial. Miss Maragon has turned down excellent offers from two local ranchers, simply because she feels that selling to either of them would increase the temperature of a situation that's already near the boiling point. Ifs her theory that she can prevent a neighborhood cataclysm by selecting a new owner for the Lazy M who will be strong, calm, and unprejudiced enough to keep the local hotheads from each others' throats-since the ranch is located squarely between the two principal ones." The lawyer smiled. "Assuming that you still want it under these conditions, sir, do you have the necessary godlike qualifications? I keep telling Miss Maragon that the champion she's looking for simply doesn't exist."

  McKay said. "The rough plot Mr. Agnew sent along just showed the extent of the ranch itself. Perhaps Miss Maragon bags a chart that'll give me a notion of the region as a whole." "Yes, of course, if you don't mind coming into the bedroom ." Julie Maragon rose, and all three men followed her through the door into a small, feminine chamber. On one wall was hung in a frame an old-fashioned map, ornately drawn and yellow with age. "This isn't quite accurate, but it will give you the general idea," the girl said crisply to McKay.

  "The chief ranches are here, about forty miles west of San Rafael. They're strung along the Rio Puerco, which runs north and south, kind of like beads on a string. There's Major branch Terrill's Ladder ranch to the north, here, the Lazy M in the middle, and the Hanneseys' place to the south-"

  "Who are the Hanneseys?" McKay asked.

  Maragon hesitated. "Well," she said, "I don't want to prejudice you against people who may become your neighbors. I'll just say that, rightly' or wrongly, anything that happens within a hundred miles of San Rafael is usually blamed on the Hannesey
s, if it's bad. Probably they get the credit for a great many crimes of which they're quite innocent." She put her finger on the map. "You can see how their ranch backs onto the badlands to the south. it's well known that the broken country is a kind of sanctuary for men wanted by the law. Some people think there's a kind of understanding whereby these lawless men help themselves to whatever Hannesey beef they need for eating purposes, and maybe even obtain some supplies from the ranch on occasion. In return for this help, they're supposed to ride with Rufus Hannesey or his son Buck whenever they're needed." She shook her head quickly. "Please understand, there's no proof of this at all. I just mentioned it to show how people feel when the name Hannesey is mentioned around here. Actually, Gramps never had any trouble with them and I shouldn't say anything against them, except that-" She hesitated, and laughed shortly. "Well they want the Lazy M of course, and their campaign has been well-just a little obvious and embarrassing."

  Ben Rainier chuckled. "Julie means that after she turned down old Rufus's offer, the next day who should be standing on the step, hat in hand, but young Buck with a bunch of flowers. I suppose I should be jealous."

  The girl said soberly, "No, but you shouldn't laugh, Ben. I don't think it's safe to laugh at any of the Hanneseys, Buck in particular. They're funny people where their pride is concerned."

  Brockhurst stirred. "Funny isn't precisely the word I would choose to describe them, my dear."

  Julie Maragon said, "Well, anyway, that's the situation." she glanced at the map. "Then there's Judge Canning's spread on this side, and some land in the west owned by a British syndicate, and that's about the lots Oh, I almost forgot." She laughed. "Ben runs his cattle up here, north of Ladder, near the head of the river."

  I was wondering if you were going to leave me out entirely," the big man said. "My outfit's a small one, I admit, but it does exist."

  The girl smiled at him, and looked back to McKay. Standing primly by the map, she looked very much like a school teacher instructing her class. "You've got to understand that water means everything to a cattleman," she said. "There are only two good. waterholes in the area, Caballo Springs, up at the northeast corner of the Terrill range, and the little Spring at the Hannesey ranch in Blanco Canyon. That leaves Only the river--and one tributary, Muddy Creek, which runs right through the middle of Lazy M. when Gramps came here he could pick and choose, and naturally he took the best spot. The others came later and had to settle for what was left. Now that he's dead, they're snarling over Big Muddy, lying between them, like dogs over a bone. If they didn't both hope that they could wheedle or threaten me into selling it to them legally, they'd have gone to war over it before now."

  McKay said, "It may be a childish question, but if the land is yours-I presume it is, since you're selling it-how can they fight over it?

  Julie Maragon smiled, but it was Brockhurst who answered, "You don't know Texas, sir. Out here, for all practical purposes, land and water belong to the man who holds a gun, which doesn't leave much work for a man in my profession until the warlike gentlemen start trying to consolidate their positions by legal means."

  "That's I've still got a say in what happens to Big Muddy," the girl went on. "Gramps was smart enough to sew it up tight and legal, even back in those days when it seemed that there would always be more than enough land to go around. Both Major Terrill and Rufus Hannesey would prefer to have Big Muddy with a good title-but neither of them is going to let the other have it, any way at all, even if they have to take it by force and worry about defending themselves in court later." Julie Maragon's face was shadowed. "The Terrills were my friends before this came up. Their so sure of themselves, so confident, they can't forgive me for not selling to them and letting them worry about holding it. Either way I do it, there'll be a fight. If Rufus Hannesey doesn't get what he wants, he'll try to take it. And If he does get it-if I sell to him-pretty soon he'll want more. Either way there'll be men killed, and I don't spend the rest of my remembering that it is my land that did it, and wondering if I couldn't have prevented it somehow. I thought that if I could find somebody new, somebody who wasn't involved, who could kind. of kind of just keep them apart- It's a lot to ask, I know," she finished, watching McKay steadily.

  He returned her look for a moment, noting that her eyes were her best feature, gray and candid and honest. He turned away from her steady regard, reflecting somewhat grimly that a was a Commodity much appreciated in church, but rather inconvenient in business matters. He walked quickly into the living room, stopping by the window to look at the pitiless sunshine outside aware of the girl coming into the doorway behind him. After a moment he swung about to face her.

  "It is a lot to ask, Miss Maragon," he said quietly. "And I'm afraid I'm the wrong man to ask it of. You must not have heard my name clearly when I came in. Wither that, or your disagreement with the Terrills has kept you from learning the news of the family." He looked her in the eyes.

  "I don't want to buy your property under false pretenses. I told you I had personal reason for keeping the negotiations secret. The fact is, I wanted to surprise the young lady I'm going to marry. And if your won't sell the ranch to Major Terrill, it seems unlikely that you'd want to sell it to me to give to Major Terrill's daughter as a wedding present."

  Chapter 4

  McKAY WAITED FOR BROCKHURST beyond the gate. The lawyer straightened up from securing the latch, and the two men walked down the shaded street together.

  "I have it now," Brockhurst said. "When you drew yourself up so nobly to disclose your identity, sir, the name came back to me."

  "The name?"

  "I told you I had some reason for remembering a McKay. The name was Randolph-no, not Randolph, Bardolph He was a partner in a Baltimore shipping firm-with his brothers, I believe, although I never met them. You must be related to him, Mr. McKay, you look very much like him."

  'I'm his son," McKay said.

  "I congratulate you," Brockhurst said. "I acted for his opponent in a small affair of honor, but that was matter of friendship and duty. And does not mean that I remember your father With anything but esteem. I never met him again, but he was a brave gentleman and a fine shot. I've never seen a man with cooler nerves. I heard that he died a few years later. My condolences. Well if you're returning to the hotel. I'll take leave of you here."

  McKay stood watching the lawyer walk away up the street toward his office, a dignified scarecrow of a man in the loose-fiting clothes that flapped about him in the wind toward the hotel, where half a dozen men were lounging on the veranda in a compact group. They were more roughly dressed than the townspeople he had seen. They had a harder and leaner look, and they all bore weapons, either repeating rifles or heavy revolving pistols in some cases both. It seemed like a great deal of armaments to be displaying in a country suffering neither from war nor revolution. McKay noted that, while the clothing was usually coarse and worn, a great deal of had apparently been spent on their wide hats and handmade boots. He was aware that his own hat drew some ribald comments as he passed.

  Inside the hotel, there were more hard-bitten men doing nothing in particular. The proprietress, her bulk still squeezed into the limited space behind her desk, was talking to a tall, narrowly built individual whose costume, while essentially the same as that of the others, somehow managed to to look a little cleaner and more picturesque.

  "Here he comes now," the woman said audibly.

  The tall man turned to watch McKay approach. He had a long, bronzed lace, sandy hair, and light-blue eyes. The holster in which he carried his revolver was secured to his thigh by a leather thong, "Your name's McKay?' he asked„ "I'm Steve Leech, Major Terrill's foreman?" He held out his hand. McKay took it, and for the second time that day found his fingers crushed with what seemed like unnecessary vigor. "Miss Pat's had me looking all over town for you, Mr. McKay."

  McKay said, "Well, not quite all over town, Mr. Leech, or you'd have found me."

  "I sent a man over to that lawyer's offic
e, but he came back saying nobody was there." The tall man's eyes were inquisitive, it was apparent that the Ladder foreman considered himself privileged to make the affairs of the ranch and its visitors his own.

  McKay said, "I'm sorry to have caused you trouble. I was under the impression it would take Miss Terrill longer find you and return."

  "We came across a rider who'd seen the Hannesey bunch heading for town. It seemed like a good idea to turn back and see what they had in mind. We met Miss Pat just a couple of miles down the road."

  "Did you get the trouble taken care of?" McKay asked.

  Leech laughed. "When they saw I had both doors of the cantina covered by half a dozen men, there was no fight left in them. They let our riders go and slunk away with their tails between their legs."

  The woman behind the desk said, "Don't be cocky, Steve, My boy. You just had the hired hands to deal with. You know damn well if Buck Hannesey'd been with them you'd have to smoke them out-yes, and you'd have got your two boys back in a blanket. You took a hell of a chance playing it the way you did. You could have started a battle that would have set this whole country on fire. Lucky for you that bunch just wasn't loaded for bear."

  Leech grinned. "Well, they got bear anyway, loaded or not," he said. He turned back to McKay. "Miss Pat's down at Mrs. Canning's getting her things together. It's the big house at the end of the street. There's a buckboard waiting for you around the corner of the hotel. The broncs have had some of the steam run out of them, so I reckon you can handle them. Tell Miss Pat if she wants to start for the ranch, we'll be along as soon as we get the two boys upstairs sobered up enough to stay in the saddle. We won't be far behind, and there's a Winchester in the wagon, Mr. McKay, in case you run into trouble. Even if you don't know how to use it, Miss Pat does. Mr. McKay-"