The Settling of the Sage Part 25

"But it's easy to get enrolled," Brill said. "Your name's liable to show up on it any time. Seen Lang in the last few days?"

"Not in the last few months," Carson stated. "Nor yet in the next few years. He's no friend of mine."

"I sort of remember you used to be right comradely," Brill remarked.

"That's before I really knowed Lang intimate," Carson said. "He didn't strike me as such a bad sort at first; but now he's going too strong.

Folks are getting plum down on him."

"What you mean is that folks who used to be friendly are growing spooky about getting their own names on that list," Brill said. "That's what has opened their eyes."

"Maybe so," the thirsty man confessed. "But anyway, I'm through."

"They're all through!" Brill said. "A hundred others just like you, scattered here and there. It's come to them recent just what a bad lot Lang is. It's h.e.l.l what a whisper can do."

"It is when that whisper is backed by a thousand-dollar reward," Carson agreed. "If he really pays up it'll wreck Lang's little snap for sure."

Brill dabbed his cloth at an imaginary spot on the polished slab and nodded without comment.

"I reckon he launched that scheme because Slade put a price on him first," Carson said.

"I didn't know Slade was into this," Brill stated softly. "There's no proof of that. Not a shred."

"No more than there's any proof that Harris is behind these rewards,"

Carson said. "But you know that Slade is out to wreck the Three Bar since they've planted squatters there."

The storekeeper failed to respond.

"There's likely a dozen men looking for Harris right now," Carson prophesied.

"But it's hard for one of 'em to get within ten miles of the ranch,"

Brill observed. "So while they're maybe looking for him it's right difficult to see him that far off."

"I don't mind admitting that I'm for Harris--as against Slade," Carson said.

"Just between us two I don't mind confessing that I'm neutral--as against everything else," Brill returned.

"Now you know how I'm lined up. Do I get that quart?" Carson urged.

"I knew how you was lined up months back." Brill turned on a dry smile.

"I ain't told a soul till right now," Carson objected. "So how could you know?"

"You didn't need to tell. As soon as that rumor leaked out it was a cinch where you'd stand. And a hundred others are crowding on to the same foothold along with you."

"And why not?" Carson demanded. "Who wants to get a thousand plastered on his scalp? It would tempt a man's best friends."

"Or scare 'em off," the storekeeper commented. "Which is all the same in the end."

A half dozen men clattered up in front and surged through the door.

More arrivals followed as the regular afternoon crowd gathered before the bar. There were many jobless hands drifting from one ranch to the next, "grublining" on each brand for a week or more at a time during the slack winter months.

Carpenter rode up alone. Brill lowered one lid and jerked his head toward Carson.

"Broke--and reformed," he said. "Maybe."

Some minutes later Carp bought the thirsty man a drink.

"You looking for a job?" he asked. "I can use you down my way."

Carson was well versed in the bends of the devious trail and Carp's ways smacked of irregularities. Carson had ideas of his own why the other man was allowed to start up an outfit down in Slade's range. One day Carp's name would be cited on the black list. As diplomatically as possible he refused the offer of a job.

The storekeeper smiled as he noted this. Carson had turned into a solid citizen almost overnight. As Carp left him and joined another group Brill poured Carson a drink.

"You're a fair risk at that--as long as you stay cautious," he remarked. "I'll stake you to a horse and saddle. You can ride the grubline with the rest of the boys till spring and get a job when work opens up." He slid a bottle across the bar. "Here's your quart."

He stood looking after him as Carson moved to a table and motioned several others to join him over the bottle.

"That's about the tenth reformation that's transpired under my eyes in as many days," Brill mused. "Give us time and this community will turn pure and spotless. I don't mind any man's owing me if he stands a fair show to go on living."

The sheriff dropped in for one of his infrequent visits to Brill's. He waved all hands to a drink.

"I've just been out to the Three Bar to see Harris," he announced.

"And asked him about this news that's been floating about. He came right out flat and says he's not offering a reward. That's all a mistake."

Every man in the room grinned at this statement. There was no other possible reply that Harris could make.

"Of course," the sheriff said reflectively. "Of course there's just a chance that Cal lied to me."

"He lied all right," Carp prophesied. "I'd bet my s.h.i.+rt he'll stand to pay the price for every man that's cited on that list."

"Shaw," the sheriff deprecated. "That's dead against the law, that is.

He can't do that."

"He will do it," Carp predicted. "If I was on that list I'd be moving for somewheres a long ways remote from here."

"Then you'd better be starting," Alden counseled mildly. "For Harris was just telling me that your name had got mixed up with it. Morrow's name has sprung up too. Cal seemed mystified as to how it had come about for he says you and Morrow never rode with the others on the list. He couldn't figure how this thing come to start."

"Figure!" Carp snapped. "He figured it out himself, who else? Are you going to stand for his putting a price on every man he happens to dislike?"

"But he says he don't know anything about it," the sheriff expostulated. "So how can I prove he does? I'd like to know for sure.

If I thought he was actually set to pay those rewards I'd have to ride over and remonstrate with Cal. That would be in defiance of the law."

One or two who had been drinking with Carp moved over to speak with others and failed to return. He was left standing alone at the bar.

He shrugged his shoulders and went out.

"Folks are considerable like sheep," Brill observed. It occurred to him that in every saloon and in every bunk house within a hundred miles the topic of conversation was the same.

He lowered one lid as he looked at the sheriff and jerked his head toward Carson.