Brand Blotters - Page 10/180

"Did you ever ride the range?"

"No."

"What sort of work have you done?"

After a scarcely noticeable pause, "Clerical work," he answered.

"You're from the East?" she suggested, her eyes narrowing.

"Yes."

"My name is Melissy Lee," she told him, watching him very steadily.

Once more the least of pauses. "Mine is Diller--James Diller."

"That's funny. I know another man of that name. At least, I know him by

sight."

The man who had called himself Diller grew wary. "It's a common enough

name."

"Yes. If I find you work at my father's ranch would you be too particular

about what it is?"

"Try me."

"And your memory--is it inconveniently good?" Her glance swept as by

chance over the scene of her recent operations.

"I've got a right good forgettery, too," he assured her.

"You're not in the habit of talking much about the things you see." She

put it in the form of a statement, but the rising inflection indicated the

interrogative.

His black eyes met hers steadily. "I can padlock my mouth when it is

necessary," he answered, the suggestion of a Southern drawl in his

intonation.

She wanted an assurance more direct. "When you think it necessary, I

suppose."

"That is what I meant to say."

"Come. One good turn deserves another. What about this?" She nodded toward

the dead cow.

"I have not seen a thing I ought not to have seen."

"Didn't you see me blot a brand on that calf?"

He shook his head. "Can't recall it at all, Miss Lee."

Swiftly her keen glance raked him again. Judged by his clothes, he was one

of the world's ineffectives, flotsam tossed into the desert by the wash of

fate; but there was that in the steadiness of his eye, in the set of his

shoulders, in the carriage of his lean-loined, slim body that spoke of

breeding. He was no booze-fighting grubliner. Disguised though he was in

cheap slops, she judged him a man of parts. He would do to trust,

especially since she could not help herself.

"We'll be going. You take my horse," she ordered.

"And let you walk?"

"How long since you have eaten?" she asked brusquely.

"About seven minutes," he smiled.

"But before that?"

"Two days."

"Well, then. Anybody can see you're as weak as a kitten. Do as I say."