The Ridin' Kid from Powder River Part 25

"This is Malvey--Bull Malvey," said The Spider, hesitating for Pete to name himself.

"Pete's my name. I left the rest of it to home."

Malvey laughed. "That goes. How's things over to the Concho?"

"I ain't been there since yesterday."

The Spider blinked, which was a sign that he was pleased. He never laughed.

Malvey winked at The Spider. "You ain't ridin' back that way to-day, mebby? I'd like to send word--"

Pete shook his head. "Nope. I aim to stay right here a spell."

"If you're intendin' to _keep_ that horse out there, perhaps you'd like to feed him." And The Spider indicated the direction of the corral with a twist of the head.

"Which is correct," said Pete.

"Help yourself," said The Spider.

"I get you," said Pete significantly; and he turned and strode out.

"What in h.e.l.l is he talkin' about?" queried Malvey.

"His horse."

Malvey frowned. "Some smooth kid, eh?"

The Spider nodded.

Pete appreciated that his own absence was desired; that these men were quietly curious to find out who he was--and what he had done that brought him to Showdown. But Malvey knew nothing about Pete, nor of any recent trouble over Concho way. And Pete, unsaddling his pony, knew that he would either make good with The Spider or else he would make a mistake, and then there would be no need for further subterfuge.

Pete surveyed the corral and outbuildings. The whole arrangement was cleverly planned. He calculated from the position of the sun that it lacked about three hours of noon. Well, so far he had played his hand with all the cards on the table--card for card with The Spider alone.

Now there would be a new deal. Pete would have to play accordingly.

When he again entered the saloon, from the rear, The Spider and Malvey were standing out in the road, gazing toward the north. "I see only three of them," he heard The Spider say in his peculiar, high-pitched voice. And Pete knew that the speech was intended for his ear.

"Nope. Four!" said Malvey positively.

Pete leaned his elbow on the bar and watched them. Malvey was obviously acting his part, but The Spider's att.i.tude seemed sincere.

"Pete," he called, "Malvey says there are four riders drifting in from the north. I make it three."

"You're both wrong and you got about three hours to find it out in,"

said Pete.

Malvey and The Spider glanced at one another. Evidently Pete was more shrewd than they had suspected. And evidently he would be followed to Showdown.

"It's a killing," whispered The Spider. "I thought that it was. How do you size him up?"

"Pretty smooth--for a kid," said Malvey.

"Worth a blanket?" queried The Spider, which meant, worth hiding from the law until such time as a blanket was not necessary.

"I'd say so."

They turned and entered the saloon. The Spider crept from the middle of his web and made plain his immediate desire. "Strangers are welcome in Showdown, riding single," he told Pete. "We aren't hooked up to entertain a crowd. If you got friends coming--friends that are suffering to see you--why, you ain't here when they come. _And you ain't been here_. If n.o.body is following your smoke, why, take your time."

"I'll be takin' my hoss when he gits done feedin'," stated Pete.

The Spider nodded approval. Showdown had troubles of its own.

"Malvey, did you say you were riding south?"

"Uh-huh."

"Kind of funny--but I was headin' south myself," said Pete. "Bein' a stranger I might git lost alone."

"Which wouldn't scare you none," guffawed, Malvey.

"Which wouldn't scare me none," said Pete.

"But a crowd of friends--riding in sudden--" suggested The Spider.

"I 'd be plumb scared to death," said Pete.

"I got your number," a.s.serted The Spider.

"Then hang her on the rack. But hang her on the right hook."

"One, two, or three?" queried The Spider.

"Make it three," said Pete.

The Spider glanced sharply at Pete, who met his eye with a gaze in which there was both a challenge and a confession. Yet there was no boastful pride in the confession. It was as though Pete had stated the simple fact that he had killed a man in self-defense--perhaps more than one man--and had earned the hatred of those who had the power to make him pay with his life, whether he were actually guilty or not.

If this young stranger had three notches in his gun, and thus far had managed to evade the law, there was a possibility of his becoming a satellite among The Spider's henchmen. Not that The Spider cared in the least what became of Pete, save that if he gave promise of becoming useful, it would be worth while helping him to evade his pursuers this once at least. He knew that if he once earned Pete's grat.i.tude, he would have one stanch friend. Moreover, The Spider was exceedingly crafty, always avoiding trouble when possible to do so. So he set about weaving the blanket that was to hide Pete from any one who might become too solicitous about his welfare and so disturb the present peace of Showdown.

The Spider's plan was simple, and his instructions to Malvey brief.

While Pete saddled his horse, The Spider talked with Malvey. "Take him south--to Flores's rancho. Tell Flores he is a friend of mine. When you get a chance, take his horse, and fan it over to Blake's. Leave the horse there. I want you to set him afoot at Flores's. When I'm ready, I'll send for him."

"What do I git out of it?"

"Why, the horse. Blake'll give you a hundred for that cayuse, if I am any judge of a good animal."

"He'll give me fifty, mebby. Blake ain't payin' too much for any hosses that I fetch in."

"Then I'll give you the other fifty and settle with Blake later."

"That goes, Spider."