The Adventures of Drag Harlan, Beau Rand & Square Deal Sanderson - The Great Heroes of Wild West. Charles Alden Seltzer
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For Seddon would deny responsibility in the matter— he had already denied it through his continued silence. Rand had not divulged the secret; and Compton was convinced he would not divulge it. In fact, Rand would not dare to accuse Seddon—for he had no proof except his own word — and all Ocate suspected Rand himself.
Lucia Morell's word, added to that of one or the other of the two men, would be the deciding factor in the determining of responsibility—and that was the factor upon which Compton depended.
And so, having determined to use Lucia as a lever with which to work himself into Eleanor's good graces, the big man rode confidently southward, to hunt Seddon.
He found the Bar S owner with the outfit, working a little level near a shallow river; and Seddon joined him at a little distance from the men, some of whom waved their hands at Compton.
Compton dismounted near the outfit wagon, and stood, watching Seddon's approach, smiling with humorous malice. For he remembered that on another day, when he had spoken to Seddon about Eleanor, the Bar S man had given him a short answer when he had declared his intentions regarding the girl. Some trace of the smile was still in his eyes when Seddon reached him. Seddon saw it, and spoke gruffly :
"What's ticklin' you this mornin'?"
Compton did not answer; he stood regarding Seddon with his malicious smile. And now, with Seddon's gaze on him, Compton's smile grew mysterious. And then, when he saw that Seddon's face was slowly reddening, and that an angry, intolerant gleam was in his eyes, Compton laughed aloud — a sound in which there was mingled scorn and amusement.
"So that's the reason you and Rand don't hit it off, eh?" he said when he had enjoyed Seddon's mystification long enough.
The color went out of Seddon's face, and then surged back again until face and neck were crimson. Had Compton doubted Lucia's word, the spectacle of guilt that now stood before him would have been sufficient to convince him.
Seddon's eyes betrayed him; they held a furtive, guilty gleam.
"What you gettin' at?" he demanded.
Seddon's voice lacked spirit; and Compton laughed again.
"Bud—" he began. But Seddon, his face convulsed, interrupted him with:
"It's a lie — damn you! It's a lie — an infernal, sneakin' lie!"
"Bah!" said Compton, sneering. "You can't put that over—on me. Lucia Morell told me — she was at the girl's side when she died. Brace up! No one else knows it — not even Rand."
He watched Seddon as the latter walked with drooping shoulders to the wooden "chuck" box near the wagon, sat heavily down on it, and leaned forward, his chin in his hands, in an attitude of complete dejection.
Seddon's face was red and swollen from the passions that were rioting in him. He did not look at Compton, but kept repeating:
"Ellie will get to hearin' it; she'll hate me — she'll hear of it, an' she'll hate me!"
And when Compton walked toward him, grinning, halting near him, he said bitterly:
"I knowed I ought to have told her—long ago. There'd have been a chance then. Now—"
He got up, a frenzied look in his eyes, and stood rigid, his muscles straining, rage paling his face.
"Damn Lucia Morell! An' damn Rand — damn all of them! I'm goin' right home an' tell Ellie before any of the sneakin' skunks can get a chance to poison her against me. I'm goin' —"
"Sit down, you fool!"
Compton gripped his shoulders with a strength that made Seddon cringe; and as he was forced down upon the chuck box he seemed to yield to the compelling spirit of the big man. For again his shoulders drooped, and he became silent, staring moodily at the dust at his feet.
Compton laughed, his voice vibrating with scorn.
"You'd tell her, eh? You'd ride right over and put her wise to what a sneak you've been — and hurt her so that she'd never look at you again! Bah! What good would that do? I'll take care of this; you keep your mouth shut!
"Look here," he went on, as Seddon began to regain his composure. "I've got this thing all framed up. Last night Lucia Morell told your daughter that Bud is Rand's boy—and that she — Lucia — is the boy's mother. Understand? Well, all you've got to do is to sit tight, and Eleanor will go on believing what Lucia told her. That's simple enough, eh?"
Compton laughed as Seddon got to his feet again, pale and relieved.
"I sure thought I'd got to the end of my string," he said. And then he looked at Compton, suspicion in his eyes.
"What you expectin' to get out of this? What did you frame it up for?"
"For Eleanor," declared the big man, with a level, sober glance at the other. "I want her, and I'm going to have her!"
"She's been running over to the Three Bar every day for more than a week—staying until dark, or after. Rand has got her going — she's dead in love with him. I've had Lefty Morgan watching them for a week; and yesterday he saw them alone in the timber—Rand holding her hand and trying to mush with her."
"Don't think I don't know what has happened. You didn't give Rand that bill of sale for Midnight on your own hook; he made you give it to him. Why? Because you were afraid he would squeal about the boy. I didn't know why you had given it to him until Lucia Morell told me what was what. But I know now! And Rand doesn't get Eleanor. Understand? I'll see to that. You stick to Lucia's story—if it comes to a show-down — or if Eleanor asks you. If you don't I'll have Lucia tell a new story to Eleanor — and it will be the truth — don't forget that!"
Seddon stood, clenching and unclenching his hands, his face crimson again.
"Compton," he said thickly, looking intensely at the big man, "you don't mean any harm to Ellie?"
"Bah!" laughed the other. "I want to marry her, that's all — if you call that 'harm'."
Compton got on his horse and rode away, heading straight for the Bar S. And with him he carried Seddon's permission to play the suitor to his daughter — if she would permit. And on the big man's face as he rode was a smile of triumph; for now he was certain there was no possibility of defeat for him.
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