(At last, the final segment of the mystery of the vanishing rancher, Randall Huff. Previous chapters linked in the entry below.)
The two friends returned to the main house together, still maintaining the pretense of master and servant, Jim silently readying his mind to answer sharp questions regarding Clay, and even the luckless Mr. Landry, should the topic arise. It was good that he did, for Squire Yoakum met them on the verandah, scowling like a thunderstorm.
“My daughter, Miss Kate tells me that you accompanied her to the meadow to retrieve her dog. I do not approve of this, that you would go for secluded walks with a lady, on bare acquaintance…”
“Miss Kate requested my assistance, which I happy to render,” Jim answered, in even tones. “I did not intend any disrespect to a lady, or to your hospitality.”
The host of Yoakum’s Landing scowled even deeper. “But you went back to the meadow, you and this man of yours – I saw you from the upper window, not twenty minutes ago. It was as if you had seen something and wanted to take another look. Did you indeed see something, Mr. Reade?” Squire Yoakum looked on Jim and Toby with a hard, searching air, every shred of friendly bonhomie vanished as if it had never been.
“The meadow is your property,” Jim answered. “As the owner, you would know best what there is to be seen by anyone casually passing by.” He did not like the veiled expression on the Squire’s face; that of a glutton eagerly contemplating a tasty dish. “Are you afraid that I may have seen something untoward and tell tales to the local magistrate or the sheriff?” To Jim’s discomfiture, the Squire broke into hearty laughter.
“If you did, they would not believe you, boy. They’re all my friends, hereabouts – and I am a generous man to my friends.”
“Supposing that I had found clear evidence of a body buried there, and a murdered man’s property disposed about Yoakum’s Landing?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jim knew that he had spoken rashly, but it was too late to take them back. “I was sent here to find such evidence and property, by no less than Captain Jack Hays, who reposes great trust in me. Furthermore, he and others know that I intended searching for it here.” Jim rested his right hand casually on the butt of his revolver, holstered at his waist together with his hunting knife – an implicit warning to go with his words. “Should harm come to me, or to my servant, I do not think you would be able to withstand the storm which would then arise.”
“Don’t you threaten me, boy,” Squire Yoakum growled. His eyes were as cold, as absent of feeling as pebbles. “I’ll never stand trial, no matter what you and your Captain may claim to find on my property. Show it to the magistrate, say your piece … and then see how far the trial will go. I’d never be convicted by any jury in this county or the next. I’m the grand nabob of these parts – any accusation made against me will never stand in court or anywhere else.”
“You seem very certain of yourself in this,” Jim riposted. To his infuriation, the Squire smiled broadly, all menace vanishing in an instant. Here was the hospitable, generous host once again. “I am, boy,” the Squire replied, his broad countenance flushed with satisfaction. “You can’t touch me, here on my own ground – so give up trying. We’ll be friends again – and I’ll forget this little exchange ever happened, hey?” He lowered his voice, adding, “I’m generous to my friends; I don’t forget them, and they certainly do not forget me. And,” he added in a confidential murmur which fairly turned Jim’s stomach, “My daughter does not forget her friends, either – she is kindly-disposed towards them. Especially those who are well-inclined towards the family. You’ll sit with us at supper then, will you? My daughter says that the kitchen has prepared a bounteous meal for us tonight.”
“I must beg your indulgence,” Jim answered, “since my traveling-companion is ill, and I must tend on him until he is fit to move from here. Mr. Huff is at least as much a friend as a client, and I owe him this favor.”
“Have it as you wish,” the Squire answered, seeming to be without suspicion, although Jim kept his hand on his Colt until the man had vanished within the house. Toby remarked quietly,
“I think we should go from here, James. I do not trust him, or any of his household.”
“I would agree – but that Mr. Huff will return here, expecting to find us in the chamber where we have stayed. If we depart – we may not be able to intercept him on the Trace. He will then walk straight into an ambush.” Jim drew a sigh, wishing that he had not been so hasty in sending Clay Huff away with Mr. Landry – or that he had been so taken with Miss Kate. “No – we stay here, and remain on guard.”
He thought for a moment, while Toby watched, as patiently impassive as ever. “One of us to be in the room, always – and we either cook for ourselves on the pretense of preparing food for an invalid, or else take from a dish that we see everyone else helping themselves from.”
“For how long, James? What if Mr. Huff does not return?”
“Four days,” Jim answered. “Four days – I think we may hold out that long.”
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