The next instant he was racing straight up the river toward the ford. The roan was not spared this day, for there were many chances that Bard might secure a fresh mount to speed him on the way to the Drew ranch, and now it was all important that the big grey man be warned; for there was a danger in that meeting, as Nash was beginning to feel.
By noon he reached the house and went straight to the owner, a desperate figure, spattered with mud to the eyes, a three days' growth of whiskers blackening his face, and that face gaunt with the long, hard riding. He found the imperturbable Drew deep in a book in his office. While he was drawing breath, the rancher examined him with a faint smile.
"I thought this would be the end of it," he announced.
"The devil and all hell plays on the side of Bard," answered the foreman. "I had him safe--almost tied hand and foot. He got away."
The other placed a book-mark, closed the volume, and looked up with the utmost serenity.
"Try again," he said quietly. "Take half a dozen men with you, surprise him in the night----"
"Surprise a wolf," growled Nash. "It's just the same."
"Two or three miles--maybe half a dozen--I don't know. He'll be here before night."
The big man changed colour and gripped the edge of the desk. Nash had never dreamed that it would be possible to so stir him.
"Nash--you infernal fool! Did you let him know where you were taking him?"
Once more Drew winced. He rose now and strode across the room and back; from the wall the heavy echo of his footfall came sharply back. And he paused in front of Nash, looming above his foreman like some primitive monster, or as the Grecian heroes loomed above the rank and file at the siege of Troy. He was like a relic of some earlier period when bigger men were needed for a greater physical labour.
"I don't know. Says he wants to ask for the right of hunting on your old place on the other side of the range. Which I'd tell a man it's jest a lie. He knows he can hunt there if he wants to."
"A lot of things. Said you were big and grey. And I told him that story about you and John Bard."
Drew slumped into a chair and ground the knuckles of his right hand across his forehead. The white marks remained as he looked up again.