"Yes," Breckenridge said. "I notice, however, we are still heading for the
bridge. Can't you cross the ice, Larry?"
"If I wanted to I fancy I could."
"Then why don't you?"
Grant laughed. "Well," he said, "there's only one trail through the bluff,
and it's not the kind I'm fond of driving over in the dark."
Breckenridge twisted in his seat, and looked at him. "Pshaw!" he said. "It
would be a good deal less risky than meeting the Sheriff at the bridge.
You are not going to do anything senseless, Larry?"
"No; only what seems necessary."
Breckenridge considered. "Now," he said slowly, "I can guess what you're
thinking, and, of course, it's commendable; but one has to be reasonable.
Is there anything that could excite the least suspicion that Miss Torrance
warned you?"
"There are two or three little facts that only need putting together."
"Still, if we called at Muller's and drove home by the other trail it
wouldn't astonish anybody."
"It would appear a little too much of a coincidence in connection with the
fact that Miss Torrance and I were known to be good friends, and the time
she left Cedar. As the cattle-men have evidently found out, I have crossed
the bridge at about the same time every Wednesday; and two of the cow-boys
saw us near Harper's."
"Larry," said Breckenridge, "if you were merely one of the rest your
intentions would no doubt become you, but the point is that every
homesteader round here is dependent on you. If you went down, the
opposition to the cattle-men would collapse, or there would be general
anarchy, and that is precisely why Torrance and the Sheriff are anxious to
get their hands on you. Now, doesn't it strike you that it's your plain
duty to keep clear of any unnecessary peril?"
Grant shook his head. "No," he said. "It seems to me that argument has
quite frequently accounted for a good deal of meanness. It is tolerably
presumptuous for any man to consider himself indispensable."
"Well," said Breckenridge, divided between anger and approval, "I have
found out already that it's seldom any use trying to convince you, but
each time you made this round I've driven with you, and it's quite obvious
that if one of us crossed the bridge it would suit the purpose. Now, I
don't think the Sheriff could rake up very much against me."
Grant laid his hand on the lad's shoulder. "I'm going to cross the bridge,
but I don't purpose that either of us should fall into the Sheriff's
clutches," he said. "You saw what Jardine's glass had gone down to?"
Breckenridge nodded. "It dropped like that before the last blizzard we
had."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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