Raw Land by Luke; Short

all this trouble was over.” She whirled now, and her skirts billowed as she turned. “I—you can guess now why I want to see him,” she said defiantly.
    Will didn’t speak, only inclined his head. It was a nicely acted mixture of embarrassment and a declaration of love, intended to be a show of maidenly modesty. Only it didn’t quite carry; it was too expert, Will thought.
    â€œI can’t guess, no,” he said slowly.
    â€œI want to see Murray,” Mary Norman said.
    Will said, frowning, “I understand that, yes. But I don’t understand why you came to see me. You want me to find him for you?”
    â€œYes,” the girl said swiftly.
    â€œAnd where should I look?” There was a faint touch of irony in Will’s voice.
    â€œYou must know where he is!” the girl cried. “Somebody does, and you were his closest friend!”
    Will shook his head and came to his feet. “Sorry, ma’am. But I’m not workin’ for Murray Broome any more. I’ve got a spread of my own. Murray’s disappeared, so I’ve heard.”
    â€œYou didn’t answer my question,” Mary Norman said stubbornly.
    â€œWhat was it?”
    â€œDo you know where Murray is?”
    Will looked at her levelly, and the lie came easy. “No, I don’t.”
    The girl didn’t believe him; he could see it in her eyes. “Please,” she said. “I won’t tell. Do you think I’d sell out the man I’m going to marry? Do you think I ever believed anything they wrote about him?”
    Will drawled, “You’ve got a bum steer somewhere, miss. Why do you think I know where he is?”
    â€œCall it a hunch,” the girl said swiftly. “I know you do. You must.”
    Will shook his head. “I wish I could help you. I can’t.”
    â€œYou won’t tell me?”
    â€œI can’t,” Will repeated.
    There was a long silence. During it, Will heard a muffled movement in the next room. It sounded as if somebody had scuffed a chair in passing. Only a deep silence would have allowed him to hear it. The girl heard it, too, for she said swiftly, “Please, please tell me!”
    And then she made the fatal mistake of looking toward the connecting door.
    Will knew instantly there was someone in the next room, someone listening to this conversation.
    He wheeled and lunged for the door, brushing his chair out of the way. The door opened easily, and he had only the briefest glimpse of a room like the one he had left before something crashed down on his head, and a curtain of blackness wrapped him in oblivion.
    Mary Norman ran to the door and stood looking down at Will’s broad back as he lay on the floor. Then she raised her eyes to regard the stocky, ruddy-cheeked man against the wall who was just holstering his gun.
    â€œI had to do it. He knows me,” the man said quietly, defensively.
    â€œWell, are you satisfied now?” Mary Norman asked angrily.
    â€œNo. Not at all.”
    â€œHe said he didn’t know where he was!” Mary Norman said hotly.
    â€œWhy would he tell you?” the man asked. “He doesn’t know you. But you stick around here for a while and give him a chance to see you. If Murray Broome’s around, he’ll find out you’re here. You stick.”
    Mary Norman looked at the man and said passionately, “It’s wrong! It’s a sneaking, cruel thing to do, and you know it!”
    The ruddy-cheeked man grunted. “Well, you can always go to jail, sister, if you don’t like it.”
    â€œI don’t hate it that much,” Mary Norman said bleakly. “What’s my next move?”
    â€œI’ll hide in your closet. Get some water and douse his face with it. He’ll be proddy when he comes to. Tell him you don’t know anything about who was in this room. He won’t believe you, but tell him. Or,” he suggested dryly, “you