Riders Of the Dawn (1980) (11 page)

Not five minutes had passed when the powder went of f with a terrific concussion. I had planted it better than I knew , for it not only cracked the fireplace but blew a hole in it fro m which smoke gulped and then trickled slowly.

Rising, I drifted back to my horse and headed for th e ranch. Without doubt, the CP outfit was beginning to lear n what war meant. Furthermore, I knew my methods were fa r more exasperating to the cowhands than out-and-out fight.

Your true cowhand savors a good scrap, but he does not lik e discomfort or annoyance, and I knew that going withou t water, without good food, and without coffee would do mor e to end the fight than anything else. All the same, as I heade d the gelding back toward the Two Bar, I knew that if any o f my own boys had been killed I would retaliate in kind. Ther e would be no other answer.

Mulvaney greeted me at the door. "Sure, Matt, yo u missed a good scrap! We give them lads the fight of thei r lives!"

Jolly and Jonathan looked up at me, Jolly grinning, th e more serious Jonathan smiling faintly. Jolly showed me a bullet burn on his arm, the only scratch any of them ha d suffered.

They had been watching, taking turnabout, determine d they would not be caught asleep while I was gone. The resul t was that they sighted the CP riders when they were still mile s from the headquarters of the Two Bar. The Benaras boy s began it with a skirmishers' battle, firing from rocks an d brush in a continual running fight. A half dozen times the y drove the CP riders to shelter, killing two horses and wounding a man.

They had retreated steadily until in a position to b e covered by Mulvaney, who was. ready with all the spare arm s loaded. From the bunkhouse they stood off the attack. The y had so many loaded weapons that there was no break in thei r fire until the CP retreated.

"Somebody didn't want to fight," Jolly explained. "W
e seen 'ern argufyin', an' then finally somebody else joined i n an' they ,backed out on Pinder. He was almighty sore, believ e you me.

Amid much laughter I told them about my own attack o n the CP.

Mulvaney ended it suddenly. -Hey!" he turned swiftly.

"I forgot to tell you. That catamount of a Bodie Miller don e shot Canaval!"

"Is he dead?"

"Not the last we heard, but he's hurt mighty bad. H
e took four bullets before he went down."

"Miller?"

"Never got a scratch! That kid's poison, I tell you!

Poison!"

Chapter
9

For a minute I considered that, and liked none of it. Canava l had been a man with whom I could reason. More than that , with Canaval at hand there had always been protection fo r Ogla.

There was no time to be wasted now. Telling Mulvane y of what I had seen in the canyon, I turned my buckski n toward the Bar M. I wanted first of all to talk with Olga, an d second to see Canaval. If the man was alive, I had to talk t o him . The gun star of Bodie Miller was rising now, and I. kne w how he would react. This new shooting would only serve t o convince him of his speed. The confidence he had lacked o n our first meeting he would now have.

He would not wait long to kill again, and he would see k out some known gunfighter, for his reputation could gro w now only by killing the good ones, and Canaval had been on e of the fastest around. And who would that mean? Jim Pinder , Morgan Park, or myself. And knowing how he felt about mine , I had an idea whom he would be seeking out.

Key Chapin was standing on the wide veranda of the Ba r M house when I rode into the yard. Fox was loitering nearby , and he started toward me. "You ain't wanted here, Sabre!" h e told me brusquely. "Get off the place!"

"Don't be a fool, man! I've come on business!"

He shook his head stubbornly. "Don't make no difference! Start movin' an' don't reach for a gun! You're covere d from the bunkhouse an' the barn!"

"Fox," I persisted, "I've no row with you, and you're th e last man in the world I'd like to kill, but I don't like being p ushed and you're pushin' me! I've got Bodie Miller an'

Morgan Park to take care of, as well as Jim Pinder! So get thi s straight. If you want to die, grab iron. Don't ride mine , Fox , because I won't take it!"

My buckskin started, and Fox, his face a study in conflicting emotion, hesitated. Then a cool voice interposed.

"Fox! Step back! Let the gentleman come up!"

It was Olga Maclaren.

Fox hesitated and then stepped hack, and I drew up th e buckskin for a minute. Fox looked up at me, and our eye s met. "I'm glad of that, Fox," I said. "I'd hate to have killed a man as good as you. They don't come often."

The sincerity in my voice moist have reached him, fo r when I happened to glance hack he was staring after me, hi s face puzzled. As I dismounted, Chapin walked over towar d the house.

Olga stood on the steps awaiting me. There was n o welcome in her eyes. Her face was cool, composed. "Ther e was something you wanted?"

"Is that my only welcome?"

"What reason have you to expect anything more?"

That made me shrug. "None," I said, "none at all.

How's Canaval?"

"Resting."

"Is he better? Is he conscious?"

"Yes to both questions. Can he see anybody? No."

Then I heard him speak. "Sabre? Is that you? Come in!"

Olga hesitated, and for a minute I believed she wa s going to defy the request. Then with a shrug of indifferenc e she led Chapin and me into the wounded man's room.

The foreman's appearance shocked me. He was draw n and thin, his eyes huge and hollow in the deathly pallor of hi s face. His hand gripped mine and he stared up at me. "Gla d you're here, Sabre," he said abruptly. "Watch that littl e demon! Oh, he's a fast man! He's blinding! He had a bulle t into me before my gun cleared! He's a freak, Sabre!"

"Sure," I agreed, "hut that isn't what I came about. I c ame to tell you again. I had nothing to do with killing Ru d Maclaren."

He nodded slightly. "I'm sure of it." I could feel Olg a behind me. "I found--tracks. Not yours. Horse tracks, an d tracks of a man carrying a heavy burden. Small feet."

Chapin interrupted suddenly. "Sabre, I've a message fo r you. Picked it up in Silver Reef yesterday." He handed me a telegram, still sealed. Ripping it open, I saw there wh a t I ha d expected.

MY BROTHER UNHEARD OF IN MANY MONTHS. MORGAN

PARK ANSWERS DESCRIPTION OF PARK CANTWELL. WANTED

FOR MURDER AND EMBEZZLEMENT OF REGIMENTAL FUNDS.

COMING WEST.

LEO
D
'ARCY

COL. 12TH CAVALRY

Without comment I handed the message back to Chapin , who read it aloud. Olga grew pale, but she said nothing.

"Know anything about the case?" Canaval asked Chapin.

The editor nodded. "Yes, I do. It was quite an excitin g case at the time. Park Cantwell was a captain in the cavalry.

He embezzled some twenty. thousand dollars and then murdered his commanding officer when faced with it. He go t away, was recaptured, and then broke jail and killed two me n in the process. He was last heard of in Mexico."

"Not much chance of a mistake, is there?"

"None, I'd say. Or very slight. Not many men are so big , and he is a striking character. Out west here he probabl y believed he would not be seen. Most of his time he spent o n that lonely ranch of his, and he rarely was around town unti l lately. Apparently, if this is true, he hoped to realize enoug h money out of this deal of his with Jake Booker to retire i n Mexico or elsewhere. Probably in this remote corner of th e West, he believed he might never be recognized."

"And now?" Olga had returned to the room. "What wil l happen?"

Chapin shrugged. take this
message to Sheriff Wil l Tharp, and then we'll wait for D'Arcy to arrive ."

"There's not much else we can do," I agreed.

-What is it Park and Booker want?" Chapin wondered.

"I don't grasp their motive."

"Who does?" I shrugged.

Olga had not looked at me. Several times I tried to catc h her eyes, but she avoided my glance. Her face was quiet , composed, and she was, as always, perfectly poised. Not by s o much as a flicker of an eyelash did she betray her feeling s toward mine , but I found no comfort in that. Whether or no t she believed I had killed her father, she obviously wanted n o part of me.

Discouraged, I turned toward the door.

"Where to now?" Canaval asked.

"Why"--I turned--
I 'm heading for town to see Morgan Park. No man ever beat me with his fists yet and walke d away scot-free. I'll have the hide off that brute, and now is a s good a time as any."

"Leave him alone, Sabre!" Canaval tried to sit up. '
I've seen him kill a man with his fists!"

"He won't kill me."

"What is this?" Olga turned around, her eyes blazing. "A c heap, childish desire for revenge? Or are you talking just t o make noise?. It seems all I've heard you do since you cam e here is to talk! You've no right to go in there and star t trouble! You've no right to fight Morgan Park simply becaus e he beat you! Leave him alone!"

"Protecting him?" My voice was not pleasant. Did she, I w ondered, actually love the man? The idea did not appeal t o me, and the more it stayed in my mind, the more angry I b ecame.

"No!" she flared. "I am not protecting him! From what I s aw of you after that first fight I don't believe it is he wh o needs the protection!"

She could have said nothing more likely to bring all m y own temper to the surface. So when she spoke, I listened , my face stiffening. Then without another word I turned an d walked from the room. I went down the steps to my horse , and into the saddle.

The buckskin leaned into the wind and kept the fast pac e I set for him. Despite my fury, I kept my eyes open and o n the hills. Right then I would have welcomed a fight and an y kind of a fight. I was mad all the way through, burning wit h it.

And perhaps it was lucky that right then. I should roun d a bend of the trail and come into the midst of Jack Slade an d his men.

They had not heard me until I rounded the bend, an d they were heading the same way I was, toward town. Th e sudden sound of horse's hoofs turned their heads, and Slad e dove for his gun.

He was too late. Mad clear through, the instant I sa w them I slammed the spurs into my startled buckskin. Th e horse gave a lunge, driving between the last two riders an d striking Slade's horse with his shoulder. At the same instant , I lashed out with the barrel of my Colt and laid it above th e ear of the nearest rider. He went off his horse as if struck b y lightning, and I swung around, blasting a shot from m y that knocked the gun from the hand of another rider. 'Slad e was fighting his maddened horse, and I leaned over and hit i t a crack with my hat. The horse gave a tremendous leap u p and started to run like a scared rabbit with Slade fighting t o stay in the saddle. He had lost one stirrup when my hors e lunged into his and had not recovered it. The last I saw o f him was his running horse and a cloud of dust. It al l happened in a split second, and one man had a smashed hand , one was knocked out, and Slade was fighting his horse.

The fourth man had been maneuvering for a shot at me , but among the plunging horses he was afraid of hitting hi s own friends. Wheeling my horse, I fired as he did and both o f us missed. He tried to steady his horse and swung. Buck di d not like it and was fighting to get away. I let him go, taking a backward shot at the man in the saddle, a shot that must hav e clipped his ear, for he ducked like a bee-stung farmer, an d then Buck was laying them down on the trail to town.

Feeding shells into my gun, I let him run. I felt bette r for the action and was ready for anything. The town loome d up, and I rode in and swung down in front of Mother O'Hara's.

Buck's side looked had, for the spurs had bit deep, and I'm a man who rarely touches a spur to a horse. After greasing th e wounds and talking Buck into friendship again, I went inside.

There was nobody around, but Katie O'Hara came out o f her kitchen. One look at me and she could see I was spoilin g for trouble. "Morgan Park in town?"

She did not hesitate. "He is that. A moment ago I hear d he was in the saloon."

Morgan Park was there, all right. He was sitting at a table with Jake Booker, and they both looked up when I e ntered. I didn't waste any time. I walked up to them.

"Booker," I said, "I've heard you're a no-account shyster, a sheep-stealin', small-town shyster, at that. But you'r e doing business with a thief and a murderer, and the man I'
m going to whip!" With that I grabbed the table and hurled i t out of the way, and then I slapped Morgan Park across th e mouth with my hat.

Morgan Park came off his chair with a roar. He lunge d and came up fast, and I smashed him in the teeth with a left.

His lips flattened and blood showered from his mouth, an d then I threw a right that caught him flush on the chin--and I t hrew it hard!

He blinked, but he never stopped coming, and he rushe d me, swinging with both of those huge, ironlike fists. One o f them rang bells on my skull, and the other dug for m y midsection with a blow I partially blocked with an elbow.