"Let's brace him!"
"Not yet, Johnny. Not yet!"
He had anticipated no such trouble, yet if he explained the circumstances of Rodney's death, and was compelled to prove them, he would be arrested for mutiny on the high seas--a hanging offense!
Not only his own life depended on silence, but the lives of Brisco, Penn, and Mullaney.
Yet there must be a way out. There had to be.
Chapter III
As RAFE CARADEC stood there in the bright sunlight he began to understand a let of things, and wonder about them. If some of the possessions of Charles Rodney had been returned to Painted Rock, it implied that those who returned them knew something of the shanghaiing of Rodney. How else could they have come by his belongings?
Bully Borger had shanghaied his own crew with the connivance of Hongkong Bohl. Had the man been marked for him? Certainly, it would not be the first time somebody had got rid of a man in such a manner. If that was the true story, it would account for some of Borger's animosity when he had beaten Rodney.
No doubt they had all been part of a plan to make sure that Charles Rodney never returned to San Francisco alive, nor to Painted Rock. Yet believing such a thing and proving it were two vastly different things. Also, it presented a problem of motive. Land was not scarce in the West, and much of it could be had for the taking. Why then, people would ask, would Barkow go to such efforts to get one piece of land?
Rafe had Barkow's signature on the receipt, but that could be claimed to be a forgery. First, a motive beyond the mere value of two thousand acres of land and the money paid on the debt must be established. That might be all, and certainly men had been killed for less, but Bruce Barkow was no fool, nor was he a man who played for small stakes.
Rafe Caradec lighted a cigarette and stared down the street. He must face another fact. Barkow was warned. Whatever he was gambling for, including the girl, was in danger now, and would remain in peril as long as Rafe Caradec remained alive or in the country. That fact stood out cold and clear. Barkow knew by now that he must kill Rafe Caradec.
Rafe understood the situation perfectly. His life had been lived among men who played ruthlessly for the highest stakes. It was no shock to him that men would stoop to killing, or a dozen killings, if they could gain a desired end. From now on he must ride, always aware, and always ready.
Sending Gill to find and buy two pack-horses, Rafe turned on his heel and went into the store. Barkow was gone, and Ann Rodney was still out of sight.
Baker looked up and his eyes held no welcome.
"If you've got any business here," he said, "state it and get out. Charles Rodney was a friend of mine."
"He needed some smarter friends," Rafe replied shortly. "I came here to buy supplies, but if you want to, start askin' yourself some questions. Who profits by Rodney's death? What evidence have you got besides a few of his belongin's that might have been stolen, that he was killed a year ago? How reliable were the three men who were with him? If he went to San Francisco for the money, what were Barkow and the others doin' on the trail?"
"That's neither here nor there," Baker said roughly. "What do you want? I'll refuse no man food."
Coolly, Caradec ordered what he wanted, aware that Baker was studying him. The man seemed puzzled.
"Where you livin'?" Baker asked suddenly. Some of the animosity seemed to have gone from his voice.
"At the Rodney cabin on the Crazy Woman," Caradec said. "I'm stayin', too, till I get the straight of this. If Ann Rodney is wise she won't get married or get rid of any rights to her property till this is cleared up."
"Shute won't let you stay there."
"I'll stay." Rafe gathered up the box of shells and stowed them in his pocket. "I'll be right there. While you're askin' yourself questions, ask Barkow who holds a mortgage that he claims is unpaid on the Rodney place, lets Dan Shute take over?"
"He didn't want