the Outlaws Of Mesquite (Ss) (1990) (15 page)

She started past him and Porter caught her wrist.

"Came to see your father, didn't you?" the man said. "Well, he's here."

That stopped her. Outside, the stage was in motion; then they heard it go down the trail. When the rumble of wheels had died away, the door of the station opened, and Taber stepped in. He looked at the bartender, then at Red. His eyes shifted on to the girl.

"Well, where is he?" she demanded.

Ebb Fallon lifted his hand and pointed to the man seated at the table in the corner. But before the girl could move, the bartender put one hand on the bar.

"Ma'am," he said, his voice strangely gentle, "don't go to that man. They are tryin" to trick you.

They want the claim."

"But, I-was She looked from one to the other. "I don't understand."

Fallon had turned on the bartender, and as he looked across the hardwood at him, his eyes were devilish. "I'll kill you for that, Sam."

"Not while I'm here," Red Clanahan said.

Fallen's face turned dark. "You keep out of this!" he flared. "Be glad you got off so easy before!"

Red continued to lean on the bar. "Ma'am," he said, "I've no idea what this is all about, but I'm your friend."

The girl turned sharply and went to the man in the corner. Yet as her hand touched him, he fell slowly forward, his hat rolling to the floor. He slumped on the table, his cheek against the table top.

His eyes were wide and staring. Over one eye was a blue hole.

She stared back in horror. "Dan! That's Dan Moore, Daddy's friend!"

"That was Dan Moore," Fallon replied. "You come with us, ma'am."

Fallon started toward her and she shrank back.

Shorty Taber and Porter turned suddenly on the bartender and Red. "Just stay where you are, you two. This girl goes with us. She'll be all right," he added.

"We just want some information and then she can go on her way."

Red Clanahan straightened at the bar and reached for the bottle. Coolly, he poured a drink. "You're wastin' your time," he said patiently. "She doesn't know anything about it and never did."

Ebb Fallon turned sharply. "What's that?

What did you say?"

"You heard me right. She knows nothing about the claim. Whoever hired you sure picked the dumbest help he could find. First you kill the one man who could help you; then you risk hell by kidnapin' this girl off that stage. And she not knowin' a thing!"

He looked from Fallon to Porter, his eyes cold with contempt. "Ever stop to think what'll happen when that stage reaches the end of the line and that driver finds she was taken off here? If you recall, western folks don't take to men troublin' women." He filled his glass. "I look to see you hang."

"Who are you?" Fallon persisted. "What do you know about this?"

"Who I am doesn't matter," Red replied, "except that I'm tougher than the three of you and would admire to prove it. But I'll tell you this: you did a blundering job of killing this girl's father. He wasn't dead when you left him."

"What?" Fallen's face was livid. "What's that?"

"I said he wasn't dead. He got into a saddle and rode all of ten miles before he passed out. He was a game man. I found him on the trail, cared for him-sat with him until he died. That was about daybreak this mornin'."

"I don't believe it!" Taber burst out. "You're lyin'!"

Clanahan glanced at Taber. "Do you want to get slapped around some more? I'd enjoy doin' it."

Taber stepped back, his gun barrel lifting. "You try it!" he snarled. "I'll kill you!"

Red ignored him. "Her pa told me about the claim. Told me where it was, all about it." He smiled. "Fact is, I was there this mornin', and if you want to talk business, get your boss down here with some cash."

"Cash?"

"I'm sellin' my information," Red replied, "for fifteen thousand dollars."

"But that claim belongs to the girl!" the bartender protested.

"Not if they get down there first and change the stakes and filin' notice." Red Clanahan shrugged, and gave Sam a half smile. "You get your boss down here with some money."

They hesitated, not liking it. Yet Red could see that they were worried. The blunders they had made were now obvious to them, and there was a good chance the girl did not know where the claim was. "Don't trust him," Taber said. "There's something fishy about this."

Clanahan chuckled. "You boys figure it out, but be fast. I don't have much time. If it wasn't for that, I'd stay and work the claim for a while, myself.

As it is, I can't stay that long."

Fallen turned on him, suddenly aware. "You're on the dodge!"

"Maybe."

Through it all, the girl sat quiet, numbed by the shock of her father's death and only vaguely aware these men were bartering her future. Sam looked trapped. He was polishing the same glass for the third time, his face pale and perspiring. But what could he do? What could any one man do? His one possible ally had failed him.

"You hurry," Red told them. "My information is for sale."

At that the girl looked up. "And you said you were my friend!" she said bitterly. "You're as bad as they are!"

Red shrugged. "Worse, in some ways. Sure, I'm your friend. I won't see you hurt or abused, but, lady, fifteen thousand is a lot of money! Your father refused a million for that claim."

"Stay here," Fallon said suddenly. "I'll go."

"No, you stay here," Porter interrupted. "I'll talk to him." He turned and went out of the door.

Clanahan glanced at the bartender. "Have the cook pack me some grub." He tossed a couple of silver dollars on the bar, and as the bartender reached for them, Red spread out two of his fingers, indicating two lunches. Only Sam could see the signal.

He picked up the money and went back to the kitchen.

Shorty Taber crossed to the bar. His lips were swollen. Although the bleeding had stopped, his shirt was spotted with blood and his mouth split and bruised.

He took a drink and then swore as the liquor bit sharply at the raw cuts. He glared viciously at Clanahan, who studiously ignored him.

Red picked up his glass and walked to the girl's table, never turning his back to the room. He sat down abruptly and said under cover of the movement:

"Everything's all right. Main thing is to get you out of here."

Her eyes were cold. "After you've all robbed me?

And murdered my father?" Her lips trembled.

Hastily, he said, "He was all right at the end, ma'am. He really was. Passed away, calm and serene."

Silence hung in the room and Red felt his own weariness creeping up on him. It seemed a long time since he had slept. The chase had been long and he had spent endless hours in the saddle. His head nodded, then jerked and his eyes were open. Shorty Taber was staring at him, his eyes gleaming with malice.

Red Clanahan turned to the girl. "I'm dead from sleep. When you hear a horse, wake me.

Don't let them come near me. If they start to edge nearer, push me."

Almost at once, his head was over on the table on his arms. Elaine McClary sat very still, her hands on the table before her. Carefully, she kept her mind from any thought of her father. She dared not give way to grief. For the first time she began to be aware of her situation.

She had used almost her last money to get here to meet her father after his letter about the rich strike. She had not worried, because he had told her he had become a rich man. There was no one to whom she could now turn. She was alone. She was stranded. The one thing of value her father had managed to acquire was the claim and she had no idea where it was.

Apparently nobody knew but the big red-headed man beside her.

She glared at him, seeing the rusty red curls around his ears, the great leonine head, the massive shoulders. She had never seen any man with so much sheer physical power and strength. The size of his biceps was enormous to her eyes, and she remembered, with a queer little start, those cold green-gray eyes. Yet, had they been so cold?

A board creaked and her head turned swiftly.

Taber was moving toward them. "Stay back," she said, "or I'll wake him."

Ebb Fallon looked up. "Shorty!" he snapped angrily. "Stay away from there! If anything happens to him, where do we stand?"

Taber turned with angry impatience and went back to the bar. "You weren't the one he hit," he said sullenly.

"Take your time," Fallon said. "This show ain't over yet."

Minutes went slowly by, and the big man beside her slept heavily. Several times he sighed and muttered in his sleep, and what she could see of his face was curiously relaxed and peaceful. His sun-faded shirt smelled of old sweat and dust, and now that she was closer to him, she could sense the utter and appalling weariness of the man. The dust of travel was on him, and he must have come far.

"Look, ma'am." Fallon seated himself at a nearby table and spoke softly, reasonably.

"Maybe we've gone at this all wrong. I admit we want that claim, but maybe we can make a dicker, you and us. Maybe we can do business.

Now the way things shape up, you'll get nothin' for that claim. You could use money, I bet. You make a deal with us, and you won't lose it. You sell us your interest and we'll give you five hundred dollars."

"That claim is worth a million or more," she answered. "Father refused that for it, he said."

"But you don't know where it is. Think of that. According to law, you have to do assessment work on a claim; so much every year to hold it. Well, if you don't do your work, the claim is lost, anyway. How can you do it if you don't know where it is?"

Elaine shifted a little in her chair. All this was true, and it had already fled through her mind. She was so helpless. If there were only- If she could talk to Sam!

"I'll have to think about it," she said. "But what can I do?"

"Sign a bill of sale on that claim, and get the big hombre's gun. You're right beside it. All you have to do is take it. That hombre's an outlaw anyway, ma'am. He'll sell you out."

But they had murdered her father! She couldn't forget that.

They had not even troubled to deny it.

Her eyes lifted and she saw Sam give her a faint negative shake of the head. "I'll think about it," she stalled.

If she took his gun, what then? They would kill this man as they had her father. Did that matter to her?

Suddenly, she remembered! This big, lonely man beside her, this very tired big man, he had trusted her.

He had asked her to help. Then, like a tired boy he had put down his head and slept among a bunch of murderers, trusting to her to warn him.

How soon would the mysterious boss be back? How far had Porter to go? How much time did she have?

Suppose she had the gun? Then she would be in a bargaining position herself! They would have to listen to her.

But could she force the big man to talk? She knew that would be impossible for her. But not, she thought then, impossible for these other men. She read correctly the bitter hatred in Ta-ber's eyes.

Frightened and alone, she sat in the lonely stage station and watched the hard, strange faces of these men she had never seen until scarcely an hour before. Now these strangers suddenly meant life and death to her.

She looked down at her hands, listening to the bartender put down a glass on the back bar and take up another. Then she heard a faint drumming of horses' hoofs, and suddenly- why she would never know-she sprang to her feet, drawing the big red-headed man's gun as she did so and stepping back quickly.

Almost as suddenly, and catlike, wide-awake where a second before he had been sleeping, the big man was back against the wall. He stared at her, then around the room. "Give me that gun!" he said hoarsely.

"No."

Shorty Taber laughed suddenly, triumphantly. "How do you like it this way, Big Boy? Now look who's in the saddle!"

"Let me have the gun, ma'am," Fallen said reasonably. "I'll take it now."

She stepped back again. "No. Don't any of you come near his me.

Her eyes caught the shocked horror in the bartender's eyes and doubt came to her. Had she done wrong? Should she have awakened the big man? She heard the horses draw up, heard two men dismount.

Porter entered, then another man-a big, wide-faced man with a tawny, drooping mustache and small, cunning blue eyes. He took in the tableau with a quick glance, then smiled.

His eyes went slowly to Clanahan. "Well, friend, looks like you weren't in such a good spot to bargain. Do you know where that claim is?"

"I sure do," Red snapped. Out of the corner of his mouth, he said to the girl: "Give me that gun, you little fool!"

"If she does, I'll shoot her,"

Taber said. "I never shot a woman yet, but so help me, I will. I'll shoot her, and then you."

"Shootin' a woman would be about your speed, Shorty." Red's tone was contemptuous. "Ever tackle a full-growed man?"

Shorty's nostrils flared and he swung his gun.