Guardians of the Sage Read Online Free Page B

without preamble of any sort.
    â€œI changed my mind about that, Mr. Stall,” Montana answered with equal bluntness. “I don’t mind telling you I am sorry to see you here.”
    That was direct enough. The old man drew down his shaggy eyebrows.
    â€œYour gratitude for the good wages I paid you for three years, eh?”
    â€œYou may not believe it, but gratitude had something to do with it—though I aim to be worthy of my hire. I never heard anyone accuse you of overpaying a man.”
    It was a pertinent shot. Letty had difficulty keeping a twinkle out of her eyes as she saw her father’s head go up indignantly.
    â€œYou are entitled to your opinion,” he exclaimed sharply. “But you haven’t any right to discriminate against me.”
    â€œNeither against nor for you,” Montana supplemented.
    It nettled the old man to be rebuffed so completely.
    â€œI didn’t come here to bandy words with you! The facts speak for themselves. When a man goes to all the bother you have about something that doesn’t concern him, I begin to wonder what he’s getting out of it.”
    Jim refused to lose his temper.
    â€œI suppose you mean I may be trying to feather my own nest,” he said. “All I hoped to do was pull out of this with a clean conscience. But I won’t try to disabuse your mind on that. You think what you please.”
    â€œYou can’t deny your conduct has been very—irregular, to say the least.”
    â€œPossibly irregular, but not illegal, Mr. Stall. I have been careful about that.”
    â€œAgents have been removed for less.”
    The threat failed to have the desired effect. Jim tapped the letter on his desk.
    â€œI have already removed myself,” he said grimly. “I’ll be looking for a job next month.”
    Letty could not help feeling that her father was coming off second best in this tilt of words. He nervously fingered the heavy gold watch chain that spanned his vest as he tried to dissemble his rage.
    â€œA smart Aleck gets a little authority and disrupts a whole county,” he grumbled. “Your meddling is bound to cause trouble.”
    â€œI am sorry if that is so,” Jim said thoughtfully. “It’s been the one thing I wanted to avoid. You’re a rich man, Mr. Stall. You don’t need an acre of this Squaw Valley land. But take Morrow, or Gault, or Dan Crockett—a dozen others—what have they got? They’re just getting by, that’s all. Beef is down; it’s been a dry spring. They won’t make hay enough to carry them through next winter. I figured if they could borrow from the bank and pick up some of this reservation they’d get enough water and bottom land to see ’em through. It wouldn’t make any of them rich, but it would put them on their feet.”
    This appeal to his sympathy fell on deaf ears, as Jim expected.
    â€œI’m sorry,” the old man said, “but you can’t expect me to wet-nurse the cattle business. Nobody ever helped me; what I’ve got I got for myself. All I can do to take care of my own business.”
    â€œExactly! And it will be your business to run every one of these little fellows out of Squaw Valley. I know how you work.”
    Anger began to run away with the old man. “What do you mean by that?” he demanded indignantly.
    Jim’s answer was unhurried.
    â€œI think you know what I mean, Mr. Stall. I happened to discover that you filed on most of the water over there years ago. Soon as you get the reservation, you’ll go to court and prove up on those rights. It will be the beginning of the end for the little fellows. They’ll have some range, but you’ll have their water, and they can do one of two things: Move on without a dime, or sell out to you at your own terms.”
    The charge left old Slick-ear speechless for a moment. His stubby mustache bristled like the quills on a