the High Graders (1965) (9 page)

Rupert's last comment had been a warning of som e kind.

After he had left, Dr. Rupert sat in hi s big chair and lighted his pipe. Laine had aske d for no medical advice, but he was as sure as on e could be without a physical examination that there wa s nothing in the world wrong with Laine Tennison.

Which left the question: What was she doing i n Rafter, of all places? A broken heart?

Absurd. Laine was often thoughtful, but she neve r moped.

Ben Stowe had been curious, even prying. An d Dottie's remark about an uncle in Sa n Francisco had stirred immediate interest i n Merriam. Only a fool would need to ask why.

Rafter was motivated by only one idea, th e gold from the mines. And who owned the mines? Som e interests in San Francisco.

Every day Laine rode out, or drove, and a s often as not she traveled the back trails. Was i t just out of curiosity, or for some other, more definit e reason?

Ben Stowe seemed suspicious, and if, a s Dr. Rupert thought, she was connected with the ownershi p of the mines, then she could be in real trouble.

Old Brazos at the livery stable was know n to Dr. Rupert. It was the doctor who ha d treated a badly infected leg wound when the ol d outlaw first rode into Rafter, and he had mentione d it to no one. He liked the hard-bitten ol d man, and was liked in return.

Now, as he packed tobacco into his pipe , he thought that he must have a talk with Brazos, fo r little went on around town that the old hostler did no t know. And Laine Tennison was his guest, and must b e protected.

The doctor had never accepted more than a fai r price for his medical attentions, and h e had always refused to be paid in gold. Hi s attitude in this was known, and he had never bee n bothered. Was that because he was respected? Because the y needed a good doctor in town? Or because he wa s Clagg Merriam's cousin? For Clag g Merriam was a man of some authority in Rafter.

Of course, there was a simpler reason. Dr.

Rupert was notoriously close-mouthed---
e verybody in town knew it. But how much would tha t help if it was discovered that Laine Tennison ha d some connection with the Sun Strike?

He considered that while he smoked his pipe out , carefully examining all aspects of the problem.

At the end of the evening one thing was clear: From no w on, Laine Tennison was in danger.

How many of the corrupted citizens of Rafte r had been corrupted enough to stand by if it came to doin g harm to a young girl? If it came to murder , even? Would they look the other way? How many woul d actually condone murder to protect what they had?

He knocked out his pipe and walked across th e room to the rifle rack. Carefully, he checke d every weapon. And then he took his Army Colt , checked the loads, and tucked it behind his waistband.

From this moment, Dr. Rupert Clagg would g o armed.

Chapter
6

When Mike Shevlin had walked out o f Wilson Hoyt's office several hour s earlier, he was jumpy as a cat that smell s snake.

His every instinct warned him that time was running ou t both for himself and for Laine Tennison. The fact tha t she was Eli Patterson's niece had bought hi s loyalty as no offer of a share in the gold could hav e done; although, being a practical man, he was no t unaware of what ten per cent of perhaps half a million dollars could mean in cattle.

He paused on a corner of the street, starin g about like a bull entering a bullring, searching fo r something at which to charge.

He needed to find the gold cache, and to be abl e to prevent them removing it when panic set in.

His instinct told him the proper thing was to bust righ t into the middle of things and start things happening. It wa s a good way to get hurt, but from experience h e knew that when a nest of crooks is disturbed the y are apt to move without planning, and s o make mistakes they might not otherwise make.

It was for this reason that he had deliberatel y prodded Wilson Hoyt. Any move the marsha l might make at this time would help. Even if h e only started asking questions it might be enough.

While Shevlin stood there, Ben Stow e suddenly appeared in the door of the Nevad a House, and Mike Shevlin started toward him , walking swiftly. Stowe turned at the sound of hi s heels, and Shevlin caught the hard, measurin g look. And suddenly Mike felt like old times.

He knew that now the waiting was over and he was goin g into battle. He felt a wild surge o f eagerness within him that he had to fight down.

Stowe was poised and ready for him. Mike sa w it even as Stowe spoke. "Hello, Mike.

How about a drink for old times' sake?"

"No time for drinking, Ben." Mike grinne d at him, daringly, challengingly. "I'm goin g to tear down your playhouse, Ben."

Ben Stowe's expression did not change; h e simply said, "Mike, everybody would be happie r if you'd just ride on out of here." Ben reached in hi s pocket and took out a fat roll of bills.

"Now, if you're short of cash--his"

"Remember me? There were always a lot of thing s more important than money."

"Eli Patterson is dead, Mike. If yo u start opening that up, a lot of people will get hurt."

"That's what I had in mind."

"You won't leave?"

Ben Stowe was thinking about his plans for Shevlin.

The trouble was, they might not work fast enough, s o he'd have to make other, faster plans.

"Ben?" Mike spoke quietly, almos t gently, so that suddenly every sense in Stowe's bod y was alert. "Ben, why don't you leave?"

Stowe was startled at the words. He stare d sharply, unbelievingly at Shevlin. "Me?

Why should I leave?"

"Think about it, Ben. You and me, we're no t exactly tenderfeet. We've both been through th e mill. I say, grab it and run. You've ha d everything your way, and you've got a lot stashe d away, so why not take it and get out? Believ e me, Ben, it's all over."

Ben Stowe started to make an angry reply , then hesitated. Shevlin was keyed up, he coul d see that, and the last thing Stowe wanted was a gu n battle. And then he had a shockin g sense that Shevlin was right.

He struck a match and took his time lighting hi s cigar. He was shocked at the sudden wave o f panic that had swept through him.

Ben Stowe was realist enough to know that the doubt ha d been lingering there all the time, and Shevlin's word s had just exploded his feeling into desperation. In an y such deal as this there was always that feeling that it was to o good to last; and that feeling had been building large r and larger in all of them. Only a damned foo l could fail to be apprehensive. But Ben Stowe wa s a hard man; he fought down his panic.

"You seem to be riding a rough saddle , Mike. What's your stake in all this?"

"Give me the man who killed Eli."

Stowe shot him a swift glance. "Eli?

Mike, men have died before, and others have yet to die , so why get worked up over him?"

He made one last attempt, not to bu y Shevlin, but to stall him. "Why not come into the party , Mike? This cake is big enough for all of us."

"Give me the man who killed Eli."

Stowe drew on his cigar. "Now, I might jus t do that, Mike," he said, knowing he could do nothin g of the kind. "Give me a couple of days."

"Make it twenty-four hours." Shevli n moved to be off. "But take it from me, Ben, you'
d better take what you've got and run. You r game's played out."

Abruptly, he walked away. Ben Stow e would be no bargain in a fight. He had always bee n tough, but he was tougher, colder, and smarter now.

Somehow he must crack the tight ring that Stow e had built around the enterprise. Once that ring wa s cracked, once somebody was hit with panic, the n the whole thing would fall apart as everybod y scrambled for safety with everything they could lay thei r hands on.

Mason ... Mason had to be the weak link.

Not Gib Gentry, for Gib would dig in hi s heels and make a fight of it. Nor di d Mike wish to tangle with Gib--they had eate n too much dust and alkali together. Crac k Mason, and Gentry would get out fast; and afte r Mason, Stowe would have to make his fight.

Mike Shevlin was no fool. Pausin g briefly on the corner, he knew he was lookin g at an uncertain future. He was forcing thing s into the open now, but it was the only way h e knew how to act. Let the others play it cosy; h e had neither the time nor the patience.

First, he had to get Laine Tennison out o f town before the roof fell in. Even without that, h e would have enough trouble taking care of himself.

Bleakly, he thought of tomorrow, and knew that tomorrow'
s sun might not shine upon his face. For he wa s walking into m trouble than he had ever tackled in hi s life, and he had no friends. He was alone, as h e had always been alone. And he would die alone , die somewhere up a canyon when his shells ran out , or his canteen was empty and his horse dead.

He had always known that was the way it would be. I t was hell, when a man came to think of it. He'
d never felt sorry for himself, but right now ther e wasn't a soul anywhere in the world who would think o f it twice if he was killed. There was nobody wh o cared; and the odd part of it was, there never had been , as long as he could recall.

He had brushed aside such thoughts before; what wa s bringing them to mind now? Was there deep within him a realization of death? Was he really going to pay it ou t now?

He had never been in love, and so far as h e knew he had never been loved by a woman. Her e and there he had known women, some of them with affection , but it had gone no deeper than that. He knew h e was a one-woman man, and had always known it; and h e shied away now from the face that appeared sharply befor e his eyes. Not for him. Not for such as he, was a girl like Laine Tennison.

In the back of his mind there had always been th e vague idea that someday he would find the girl h e was looking for. He would buy himself a nice littl e spread, fix it up shipshape and cosy, an d maybe they'd have a couple of youngsters. ... H
e was a hell of a person to have such ideas.

Mike Shevlin considered the present situatio n with care. He had really kicked over th e applecart, and no mistake. Wilson Hoy t would not sit still. He would at least mak e inquiries, try to take some steps to avoi d trouble. That Ben Stowe would also take steps would b e quite in keeping with the man as he remembered him.

At the livery stable Shevlin got his horse an d rode out of town, then circled around and came u p behind Dr. Rupert Clagg's place. There wer e tall cottonwoods behind the house, rustling thei r leaves in the faint stir of air.

Swinging down, he tied his hors e well into the deepest shadow of the trees. He mus t see Laine. He must warn her, and he must ge t her out of town if possible.

He moved toward the house and paused by a thic k old tree, listening into the night. From the kitche n came the faint clatter of dishes and the momentar y sound of a girl's voice lifted in talk.

Something stirred in the grass near him, and a moment later a voice spoke. "All right, wha t do you want?"

"I want to see Laine Tennison."

"Rather late for that, isn't it? If she knows yo u and wishes to see you, come around tomorrow."

Laine's voice interrupted. "It is al l right, Rupert. I want to see him."

Mike Shevlin lifted the latch of the gate an d came into the back yard. The light in the kitche n had been blown out, and the rear of the house was dark.

He stood uncertainly inside the gate. "Al l right," the man's voice said, "if Mis s Tennison wishes to see you." There was a pause.

"I am Dr. Clagg."

Shevlin turned his head, listening for any soun d of a possible ambush. "Related to Clag g Merriam?" he asked.

"A distant cousin."

"Ah?"

"Will you come into the house?"

Mike hesitated, then followed them into th e house. They went through the dark kitchen and along a lighted hall into a comfortable living room.

"Drink?"

"No, thanks."

Dr. Rupert and Mike Shevlin measure d each other. "Coffee?" the doctor suggested.

"We're tea drinkers ourselves, but we always hav e coffee."

"I'll have tea," Mike said. "I spent a winter one time in a horse camp with a n Englishman. I got to like it."

Laine had come into the room and Clagg turne d to go. "I'll let you talk," he said. "I mus t tell Dottie what's going on."

"You stay." Shevlin did not mean to speak s o abruptly, but he suddenly realized that Clag g was a solid citizen, and a fighting man. "You'
d better hear this. You'll know it all in a day o r so, anyway."

Dottie came down the stairs and into the room.

"Ma'am," Shevlin said, "I'
m Mike Shevlin, and all hell's about to brea k loose."

Chapter
7

Ben Stowe chewed angrily on his cigar. Tha t damned, gunhandy saddle tramp, drifting in her e to ruin everything! Why couldn't he have stayed i n Texas, or wherever he had come from?