Chapter VII: Trouble Roosts at the Star A

Austin’s heart was lighter as he and Sands rode back to Keno City. As far as the death of Slade was concerned, everything was all right. Sands had handled things well, and Austin was grateful to the tall foreman.

“If we can only fix things to get Hal back home, everything will be fine,” he told Sands. “I made you a proposition yesterday, if you remember. I said I’d give you half interest in the Star A, if you married Juana Diaz. Now, I’ll go further than that, Cal. To-morrow we’ll go to a lawyer in Keno City and draw up partnership papers. After to-morrow, you own half of the Star A. No, don’t say a word,” when Sands started to speak. “I don’t want any thanks. I need you there. I can’t take any active part in the handling of the ranch. Things are in pretty much of a mess--rustling and all that.”

“That’s a pretty big gift,” said Sands slowly.

“All right. Stop all this rustling. It’s your stock as well as mine now.”

“I’ve done all I could.”

“Oh, I know that. I’m not accusing you of negligence, Cal. But I wish Slade had lived long enough to tell me what he knew.”

“Did he know anything?”

“Perhaps.”

They found that Hal had not come back to Keno City; so they went on to the ranch. Austin had hoped against hope that Hal had relented and gone to the ranch to see his mother and sister, but Hal had not been there.

“Either Hal does not know we are in this country, or something terrible has happened to him,” declared Mrs. Austin, after her husband had told her they could not find Hal.

“I don’t think he knows we are here,” lied Austin wearily. If he could only induce Hal to go back to San Francisco and let them find him there, it would clear up everything.

“I shall search for him myself to-morrow,” declared Mrs. Austin. “I shall enlist the assistance of the sheriff’s office, and if he is in this----”

“No, I wouldn’t do that,” said Austin quickly. “I--I’ll find him. As soon as he finds we are here he will come to the ranch.”

“Why did he leave here in the first place? You do not know? I do.”

“You do?”

“He quarrelled with Cal Sands over that Mexican girl. Sands tried to prevent Hal from seeing her, because he is in love with her himself.”

“Ridiculous! Sands doesn’t love that girl.”

“I suppose he told you he doesn’t.”

“Who told you all this?”

“That,” said Mrs. Austin firmly, “is a confidential report. Hal refused to take orders from Sands.”

“Sands didn’t want Hal to throw himself away on a Mexican girl. He felt responsible to me.”

“Very considerate, I’m sure. But have you seen this Mexican girl?”

Austin hesitated, but decided to admit that he had seen Juana. “Yes. I have seen her.”

“Pretty?” demanded his wife.

Austin shrugged his shoulders.

“Pretty enough, I suppose--if you care for that type of beauty.”

“So Omaha, the cook, said.”

“You got all your information from Omaha, eh?”

“He answered a few questions,” Mrs. Austin snapped.

“I believe Sands would be interested in knowing that the cook is a gossip.”

“I know I was,” she smiled. “He told me many things, and among them was the fact that Slade, the man who was killed in Silver Bar, was a detective sent here by you.”

“How in hell did Omaha know that?” blurted Austin. “That is something I must find out.”

“I asked him how he knew, and he said Slade talked in his sleep.”

“Talked in his sleep!”

“Some folks do, Frank. You have.”

He jumped. “I have? What did I say?”

“Many times. Last night, for instance, you were babbling about somebody shooting their half-sister in the back. Not an intelligent statement, but it shows what might happen.”

Austin mopped his brow with a handkerchief. This was serious. Betty came in and Austin sighed with relief.

“No news of Hal?” queried Betty, and her father shook his head.

“Is he hiding from us, dad?”

“Why, no, of course not. He just don’t know we are here. He hasn’t been in Silver Bar nor Keno City lately.”

“Then he must be in Indian Wells. Mother, did you tell dad what we had decided to do?”

“No, I had not mentioned it yet.”

“What was that?” the official head of the household inquired anxiously.

“This place is unbearable,” said Mrs. Austin. “The food is terrible and the sleeping accommodations vile. To-morrow we are going to Indian Wells and find Hal. After a talk with him, we are taking a night train for home. That is my decision.”

“But, my dear, that doesn’t give me any time----”

“You may stay, if you care to be uncomfortable; we do not.”

“But I wish you would not be too hasty. You--you may not find Hal in Indian Wells, and you would surely not want to go home without seeing him. Perhaps he will be in Keno City or Silver Bar to-morrow. I’ll try and find him. I’m sure he will come here as soon as he knows.”

“We shall go to Indian Wells to-morrow, Frank.”

“But suppose you do not find him? Would you go back without seeing him?”

“Certainly. Hal would understand.”

“Well, perhaps it would be better if you and Betty went back,” Austin said lamely.

“You do? Hm-m-m-m-m. I’m not so sure of that.”

“Do as you please, my dear,” her husband offered wearily. “But I must stay a while. There are certain things that must be cleared up.”

Austin left the house and met Sands at the stable. He told Sands that old Omaha had told Mrs. Austin a lot of things, among them the fact that Slade was a cattle detective.

“How in hell did Omaha know this?” snorted Sands. “I didn’t.”

“He said Slade talked in his sleep.”

“I wonder why Omaha didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t know. He also told her that the reason Hal wouldn’t stay here was because you and Hal quarrelled over that Mexican girl.”

Sands flushed angrily. He knew this to be the truth, but was eager to deny it.

“That blasted old liar! I’ll tie a can on him so tight that he won’t get another job in this county. Anyway, he can’t cook.”

“Do as you please about that. Mrs. Austin has made up her mind to go to Indian Wells to-morrow, find Hal if possible, and leave for home from there.”

“She and Betty?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it might be a good idea, at that, Frank.”

“Best in the world--if only they don’t find Hal. That fool kid might talk too much, thinking they already know what he does. If we can only find Hal and keep him under cover until they leave.”

“They’d probably find him at the Casa del Diaz.”

“We can’t let them do that, Cal. I’ve got to keep my wife----”

Austin broke off the sentence quickly. He had not meant to say what was in his mind. Sands was looking at him curiously. Austin mopped his flushed face with a handkerchief.

“Suppose she did go to the Casa del Diaz?” queried Sands.

Austin sat down wearily on an old box, staring ahead. Should he tell Sands, he wondered? Sands was to be his partner in the Star A. He trusted Sands. Why not tell him the truth? Possibly Sands suspected something already.

“You recognised Rosita Diaz,” Sands was saying, as Austin looked up.

“She was my wife years ago,” said Austin thickly. “Juana is my daughter. Now, do you understand?”

“For God’s sake!” exclaimed Sands.

“God hasn’t anything to do with it, Cal; it’s a devil’s mixture. My own son is in love with my own daughter, and I--I don’t dare---- I left Rosita. There was no divorce. Rosita is a Catholic. I knew there was a baby coming, but I went away. I’d been to San Francisco with some cattle, and I met Laura--my present wife. I haven’t any excuse, except that---- Oh, what’s the use?”

“Would Rosita let Juana marry Hal?” asked Sands slowly.

“Who knows? I left her destitute. Perhaps this might be her way of getting revenge.”

“But her own daughter!”

“Is she--does she seem to be doing anything to prevent it?”

“No, that’s true as hell--she ain’t.”

“And I can’t tell Laura that this Mexican woman was my wife--that Juana is my daughter. Don’t you see what it would mean?”

“It shore is a mess,” agreed Sands thoughtfully. “We’ve got to find a way out. I never thought it was that bad.”

“I didn’t know, until I saw Rosita. I just didn’t want Hal to marry a Mexican girl. If we can only get Laura and Betty out of the country! That’s what we’ve got to do--get ’em away.”

Omaha was hammering on the old circular saw which hung on the back porch in lieu of a dinner bell, calling them to supper.

“Hammer it plenty,” thought Sands. “To-morrow you go down the road.” But aloud he said: “I’m takin’ a ride to-night, Frank, and I may not be back until mornin’. I’ll stop in Keno City and have Charley Bell fix up them papers, if you’ll give me the dope on what yuh want in ’em.”

“All right, I’ll do that. Are you going to Indian Wells, Cal?”

“I think I will. I want to get a line on Hal and see if I can’t figure out some way to get him out of Indian Wells for a while.”

“Good; I’ll leave it to you. Let’s go and eat.”